£it 

>rarp  of  trhe  trheoiocjtcal  ^eminarp 

PRINCETON  ■  NEW  JERSEY 

PURCHASED  BY  THE 

MRS.  ROBERT  LENOX  KENNEDY 

CHURCH  HISTORY  FUND 

E    206     .H33    1864 

Headley,    Joel    Tyler,    1813- 

1897. 
The    chaplains    and    clergy   of 

the    Revolution 

THE  / 


CHAPLAINS  AND   CLERGY 


OF 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


BT 

J.    T.    HEADLEY, 

AUTHOR    OF  "WASHINGTON    AND     HIS    GENERALS,"    "NAPOLEON    AND    HIS 
MARSHALS,"   ETC,   ETC. 


NEW    YORK: 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER,  124  GRAND   STREET. 
1864. 


1 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1861.  by 

G.     &    F.     BILL, 

In  tne  Clerks  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  lor  the 

District  of  Massachusetts. 


ELEOTBOTYPED  BY 

SMITH    Si    Mo  D  OUGAL, 

82  &  84  Beekman  St 


PREFACE. 


In  writing  the  biographies  of  the  chaplains  and  clergy- 
men who  bore  a  prominent  .part  in  our  revolutionary 
struggle,  I  have  thought  proper  to  devote  a  few  pages  at 
the  outset  to  the  influence  of  the  2^ul2>it  as  an  institution. 
In  New  England  especially,  which  inaugurated  the  rebel- 
lion, and  on  which  fell  so  heavily  the  burden  of  carrying 
it  forward,  the  pulpit  was  a  recognized  power  in  the 
State,  and  its  aid  formally  and  earnestly  invoked. 

It  was  necessary  to  do  this  to  carry  out  the  entire  ob- 
ject I  had  in  view,  which  was  not  merely  to  give  a  series 
of  biographical  sketches,  but  to  exhibit  the  religious  ele- 
ment— in  other  words,  present  the  religious  phase  of  the 
Revolution.  Individual  clergymen  might  have  been  de- 
voted patriots,  and  rendered  efficient  service  to  their 
country,  and  yet  the  pulpit  as  such  deserve  no  more 
prominent  place  in  the  struggle  than  the  profession  of 
law  or  medicine  because  many  of  its  members  bore  a 
distinguished  part  in  it.  The  clergy,  however,  wielded 
a  twofold  power — as  individuals  and  as  rcjirescntatives 


IV  PREFACE. 

of  a  profession  which  in  Xew  England  dominated  the 
State. 

In  writing  the  biographical  sketches,  I  have  restricted 
myself  almost  exclusively  to  events  and  actions  embraced 
by  the  revolutionary  period.  This  was  necessary,  not 
only  to  give  definiteness  and  unity  to  the  work,  but  be- 
cause full  biographies  of  some  of  the  distinguished  chap- 
lains would  make  separate  volumes  in  themselves.  Hence 
I  have  not  professed  to  write  the  life  of  any  one  individ- 
ual, but  as  far  as  I  could  obtain  the  facts,  the  revolutionary 
history  of  all. 

The  details  and  incidents  necessary  to  carry  out  this 
design  not  being  found  in  public  documents,  it  will  readily 
occur  to  the  reader  that  the  most  serious  difficulties  had 
to  be  surmounted  in  obtaining  them.  I  have  had  to  rely 
chiefly  of  course  on  family  papers  and  traditions,  with 
such  additional  items  as  I  could  pick  up  in  my  researches 
among  old  pamphlets,  letters,  etc,  found  in  antiquarian 
societies.  I  mention  this  to  explain  the  absence  of  all 
references  to  authorities  in  the  body  of  the  work.  To 
have  given  the  multifarious  sources,  such  as  individuals, 
letters,  pamphlets,  magazines,  historical  collections,  etc., 
would  have  burdened  the  work  with  a  vast  amount  of 
useless  matter.  For  some  of  the  fuller  sketches,  such  as 
Allen,  Avery,  Cotton  Smith,  Gano,  Champion  and  Ker,  I 
have  been  indebted  almost  exclusively  to  the  kindness  of 
the  immediate  descendants  of  these  men.    In  others,  in  part 


PREFACE.  V 

to  family  relatives  of  the  chaplains,  and  in  part  to  various 
miscellaneous  sources.  For  many  of  the  shorter  biogra- 
phies I  am  greatly  indebted  to  Dr.  Sprague's  admirable 
work,  "  The  American  Pulpit."  Without  this  I  should 
not  have  been  able  to  give  the  birth,  nativity,  and  date  of 
death  of  a  large  portion  of  those  whose  names  will  be  en- 
tirely new  to  the  reader.  Of  course  many  who  ought  to 
be  embraced  in  this  collection  are  omitted,  because  I 
could  not  obtain  the  facts  necessary  to  make  a  biography. 
In  some  cases  the  personal  diaries,  which  would  have 
furnished  these,  have  been  lost  by  the  families  who  once 
had  them  in  their  possession — in  others  they  having  lived 
only  in  tradition,  have  passed  away  with  time,  or  are  so 
dimly  remembered  as  to  be  comparatively  valueless. 

I  have  regretted  especially  that  I  could  obtain  nothing 
satisfactory  respecting  the  Lutheran  Church,  which  ren- 
dered the  country  good  service. 

But  notwithstanding  the  necessary  incompleteness  of 
the  work,  I  feel  I  have  done  something  towards  giving 
the  clergy  and  the  pulpit  the  place  which  they  ought  to 
have  in  the  history  of  the  Revolution,  and  furnished  a 
book  which  will  benefit  the  generation  now  rising  into 
manhood,  by  directing  the  mind  not  only  to  religious 
influences,  but  to  the  great  source  of  all  national  bless- 
ings, as  well  as  to  battle  fields  and  the  strong  legions. 

This  diversion  of  the  mind  from  armies  to  the  God  of 
armies  is  especially  needed  in  our  present  crisis.     Enthu- 


VI  PREFACE. 

siasm  and  numbers  will  not  deliver  us  from  the  troubles 
that  now  overwhelm  us.  Penitence  and  humility  will  go 
farther  than  either,  and  whether  the  State  turns  as  it  did 
in  the  Revolution  to  the  Church  as  its  strongest  support 
or  not,  we  may  rest  assured,  if  its  prayers  do  not  save  us, 
whatever  success  we  may  achieve  will  in  the  end  prove  a 
sad  failure. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I.  PA0K 

Religious  Element  of  the  Revolution. — Not  sufficiently  dwelt  on  by 
Historians. — Influence  and  Action  of  Pastors. — Example  in  Stock- 
bridge,  Mass. — Interesting  Scene 13 

CHAPTER  II. 

Systematic  Influence  of  the  Clergy. — Election  Sermons  before  the 
Revolution. — Election  Sermons  a  part  of  the  Proceedings  of  the 
Provincial  Legislature.—  Samuel  Cook's  Sermon's,  1770.— Mr.  Tuck- 
er's, in  1771.— Charles  Turner's,  in  1773. — Gad.  Hitchcock's,  in  1774. — 
"The  Tea  Overboard.'"— President  Langdon's,  in  1775. — "Hunker 
Hill,  Monitions  of  the  Coming  Storm.1' — These  Sermons  the  Political 
Pamphlets  of  the  Times 21 

CHAPTER  III. 

Election  Sermon?,  Preached  after  the  Assembling  of  the  Continental 
Congress  and  Organization  of  Colonial  Government. — Rev.  Wit 
Gordon. — Rev.  Samuel  West,  of  Dartmouth,  in  177G. — Bold  Appeal.    35 

CHAPTER  IY. 

Sermons  during  the  War. — Sermon  of  Samuel  Webster,  in  1777. — Bold 
and  Patriotic  Prayer. — Discourse  of  Phillip  Payson,  of  Chelsea, 
177S. — Eloquent  Appeal. — Prophetic  Vision 4S 

CHAPTER  Y. 

Personal  Influence  of  the  Clergy. — Appointments  of  Chaplains. — Cor- 
respondence between  the  Ministers  of  Connecticut  and  Massachu- 
setts.— Thaxter,  Foster  and  Payson  fighting  at  Lexington  and 
Concord. — Washington  asks  Congress  for  Chaplains. — 2su.mijf.rand 
Names  of,  in  the  Army  at  Cambridge. — Washington's  Second  Lettejk 
to  Congress  on  the  Subject. — His  Order  remtciing  Chaplains. — David 
Ely. — Joseph  Fish. — Jonah  Stearns. — John  Mills —  David  Caldwell. 
— Thomas  Read. — Robert  Davidson. — Elizur  Goodrich. — Wm.  Goe- 
iiam. — John  Bteele. — Francis  Cummings.— Azel  Roe. — Hezekiah  Bai.cii. 
— Charles NcKnigiit. — Manasseii  Cutlee. — Nathan  Strong. — Nathan- 
iel Porter. — Annie  Robins. — John  Cleveland. — Samuel  McClintock. 
— Hezekiah  Ripley. — Isaac  Lewis. — Dr.  Latta.— Dr.  Armstrong 56 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Jonas  Clark. — TnE  Pastor  of  Lexington.— TIis  Ministerial  Life. — Early 
Teachings. — Patriotic  Conduct  and  Ability  as  a  State-man. — Han- 
cock and  Adams  find  Refuge  in  his  House.— News  of  the  Approach  of 
the  Enemy. — i I  is  Account  of  it.— Summoning  of  the  Militia. — S<  eni: 
on  the  Green. — Approach  of  the  Enemy. — The  Slaughter. — Mu.  Clark 

AMONG    HIS    SLAIN    PaRISHO.N  ERS.  —  IIlS    FllELlNGS    AND    PREDICTION 74 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Jacob  Duche. — Opens  the  first  Continental  Congress  with  Peayf.r. — 
John  Adams's  Description  of  the  Scene. — His  Patriotic  Sermons. — 
Gives  his  Pay  as  Chaplain  to  the  Families  oe  those  8l  mn  in  Battle. 
— Becomes  alaemeb,  and  ruins  against  his  Country. — His  Insulting 
Letter  TO  Washington.  —  Peeks  the  Country. — II is  Return  to  Phila- 
delphia.— His  Death. — His  Character S3 


VUl  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   VIII.  PAQB 

Samuel  Spring,  T).D. — TIis  Eakly  Life. — Becomes  Chaplain  in  the  Army.— 

TllK  ONLY  ClIAPLAIN  IN  ARNOLD'S  E  X  PEDITK  )N  ACROSS  TIIK  NORTHERN 
WlLDER.NF.SS. —  IIlN    DESCRIPTION   OF  ITS   FORMATION.—  PBBAOHES   AT   Ni:\V- 

bfrypoetto  the  Ahmy.— Visits  the  Tome  of  "Whitfield. —  Description 

OF  TIIK  MARCH  TBBOUOfl  HI   WlLDEBNESS.—  UlS  BUFFERINGS  AM)   LaBOBS. 

—  Famine. — His  Description  Of  Siiooit.no  a  Moose. —  His  La. BOB!  at 
Point  ai:x  TSBMBLBS. — Stormino  of  QUBBBO. —  He  leads  AbrolD  oit 
of  the  Fight. — Leaves  the  Army. — Settled  at  NewbubtPOBT. —  His 
Interview  with  Aaron  Blue. — His  Death 89 

CHAPTER   IX. 

Euenezer  Prime. — TIis  Patriotism. — Driven  fkom  his  Church. — TIis  Li- 
braky  Destroyed. — His  Death. — Insult  to  his  Grave 107 

CHAPTER  X. 

Samuel  Eaton. — Is  settled  in  Harpsrprg,  Maine. — Practices  three  Pro- 
fessions.— Attends  a  Political  Meeting. — His  Stirring  Address. — 
NaBBOW  ESCAPE  of  an  Officer  of  the  King. — Recruiting  Officer 
BBBBJ  ins  Aid. — Eaton  addresses  the  People  on  Sahhath  Evening. — 
Thrilling  Scene. — Soldiers  Obtained. — His  Death 110 

CHAPTER  XI. 

"William  Tennent. — TIis  Birth  and  Education. — Settled  at  Norwalk, 
Conn. —  Removes  to  Charleston,  S.  C. — His  Personal  Appearance. — 
His  Eloquence. — His  Boldness  and  Zeal  in  the  Cause  of  the  Colo- 
nies.—  Makes  Patriotic  Appeals  on  the  Saijbatii. — Is  ELECTED  Member 
of  the  Provincial  Congress  of  South  Carolinia. — Sent  with  Henuy 
Drayton  to  Back  Settlements  to  Baffle  Tobies. — Letters  to  Henry 
Laurens  and  Congress. — Again  sent  to  Congress. — His  Character...  115 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Peter  Gabriel  MniLENBURG. — Fighting  Clergymen. — Hsu H LEW BUBOES BfBTM 

and  EDUCATION. — Goes  to  England. — Settees  in  Virginia.— Takes  a 
prominent  Part  in  Political  Movements. — BECOME!  IfEMBBB  Off  the 
House  of  Burgesses. — Raises  a  Regiment,  Off  which  he  i^  OHOSI  ■ 
Colonel. —  Preaches  his  Farewell  Bebmob. — Orders  the  Dp.cm  to 
BEAT  for  Recrcits  at  the  Church  Door. —  Marches  to  Charleston. — 
Camps  at  Valley  Forge.— -Fights  bravely  at  Urandywine.— At  M<>\- 
MOUT1I.— Commands  TUB  Reserve  at  Stony  Point.— Makes  a  despei:ate 
ASSAULT  AT  Voiiktown. — Is  made  Major  General. —  Political  Cap.eer 

AFTER  THE   WAR. DEFENCE  Off  GOUBSB   IN    ABANDONING    PROFESSION 121 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

Thomas  Allen.— His  Birth  and  Education. — Settles  in  Pittsfiei.d. — 
Tabes  decided  Part  with  thi  Colonise. — Is  made  Cbateman optba 

COMMITTEB  OP  8  AffBTX  and  Coerespo.n  dence.  —  His  L  A  BOBS.  —  His   Intki:- 

est  ib  tub  Conquest  or  Ticondebooa. — New  and  [btebsstinb  Lbttbb 

TO  Gen.  BETII  POMBOT.  -.Joins  THE  Army  as  Chaplain. — His  Diary  at 
THE  B  \  PI  i.e.  Off  Wnn  k  Plains. — Goes  TO  TlOONDBBOBA.  Address  10  tiik 
BOLDIBBS  'Aiii-N  BXPECTINB  an  Attack— Hh  DbsBUST  ST  TUB  Ueii:e\t. — 
B ALLIES    mm:  M  i  i ,]  1 1  \  TO  TBI   LlD  Off  Starke,  at  Bbe  BINGTON. — Scmmons 

TUB  l.M\n  ro  BuEEENDEB,  and  is  Fired  at. — Fioins  in  THB  Panes. — 
First  ovi.i:  TBI  Bbi  vst-woek.—  II  is  Care  POB  the  Wounded.— Kk- 
tirns  TO  his  Parish.  —  DIALOGUE  with  a  Parishioner.— Voyage  to 
:  \m>  AFTER  an  Infant  Grandchild.  —  Prays  with  and  Addee—es 
•hie  CBBW  in  Expectation  Off  an  Attack.-  Hi>  CONDUCT  in  the  Shay's 
El  hellion.— His  Statesmanship.— His  Death 123 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

John  Uossiu-Rf.n. —  \n  Irishman  BY  Birth. — His  Kim-cation. — Is  Settled 
ATiiir."  Forks  of  the  Del  *  ware."—  His  Patriotism.—  Joins  \  Company 
formed  in  his  own  Parish  as  a  Soldier.— His  painful  Parting  with 


CONTENTS.  ix 

PAGE 

nis   "Wife.— Makes    ms   Will.— Chaplain  or  a   Regiment.— Marches 

AGAINST   THE    ENEMY. — Is  TAKEN    PRISONER,  AM)  MURDERED   WHILE   PeaY- 

ing  roi  His  Enemies. — The  mutilated  Corpse  btralthilt  Buried. — His 

Letters  TO  IUS  WlFE  JUST  BEFORE  A  SKIRMISH. — His  CHARACTER 153 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Abner  Benedict. — ITis  Birth  and  Education. — Settled  at  Middletown. — 
Becomes  Chaplain  in  tub  Army  at  Nbw  5Tobk. — Description  oka  teb- 

rific  Thunder-storm. —  The  Battle  of  Long  [bland.— His  Feelings. — 
The  Last  to  leave  the  BltOBB  IN  Tin:  Betreat. — Inventions  im  Sue- 
MABINB  Navigation. — MANUFACTURES  Saltpbtbb  Fob  Powder. — Elect- 
ed  Professor  in  Yale  College. — His  Character  and  Death 1G1 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

"William  White,  D.D. — ITis  Bibth  and  early  Sti-dtfs. — Goes  to  England. — 
Friend   of   Goldsmith   and   .Johnson. — Sk.ttt.ed    in    PHILADELPHIA. — 
Takes  the  Oath  of  Allegiance. — Noblb  Determination. — Elected         ^ 
Chaplain    of   Congress. — His    Conduct    after    the    Revolution. — Is 
made  Bishop.— His  Character  and  Death..* 171 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Timothy  DwicnT. — Patriotism  of  our  Colleges. — D  wight's  Birth.— ITis 
early  Life. — Tutor  of  Yale  College. — Is  Licensed  to  Preach.— His 
Patriotism.— Becomes  Chaplain. — Advocates  complete  Independ- 
ence.—Desolate  Appearance  of  Westchester  County. — Sermon  after 
the  Victory  at  Saratoga. — Anecdote  of  Putnam. — Composes  the  Ode 
to  Columbia. — Dedicates  a  Poem  to  Washington. — Shares  the  Suffee- 
ings  of  the  Soldiers  at  West  Point  in  the  Winter,  of  1T7S. — His 
Faith. — Dkad  L'n  buried  at  Fort  Montgomery. — Death  of  his  Father. 
— Leavestiik  Army. — Settles  at  Northampton. — Goes  to  Legislature. 
— Publishes  several  Poems. — Elected  President  of  Yale  College. — A 
Federalist  in  1S12. —  Eminence  as  a  Theologian. — His  Death 175 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

NAPnTiiALi  Dagget. — Professor  of  Divinity  in  Yale  College. — The 
College  broken  up. — Invasion  of  Tryon. — Terror  of  the  Inhabitants. 
— A  Company  of  a  Hundred  Touno  Men  raised  to  resist  IIim. — Dr. 
Dagget  and  his  Black  Mare.— Advances  alone  to  Eeconnoitee. — 
The  Fight. — The  Betreat. — Dr.  Dagget  refuses  to  run. — Interview 
with  the  British  Officer. — Forced  to  guide  the  Column. — Brutal 
Treatment. — Rescued  by  a  Tory. — His  Sickness. — Death 199 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

Ezra  Styles. — His  Prophecy  respecting  the  Colonies,  in  1760. — Presi- 
dent of  Yale  College. — Chancellor  Kent's  Eulogy  of  him. — His 
Patriotism.— Keeps  a  Diary  of  REVOLUTIONARY  Events. — His  Death..  205 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Joel  Barlow.— Early  Education. — A  Friend  of  Dwtgiit.— ITis  Poem, 
"The  Prospect  of  Peace." — Becomes  Chaplain. — Writes  Patriotic 
Ballads. — "Hymns  for  Yankee  Rebels." — The  Burning  of  Charles- 
town."— Occupation  in  the  Army. — Friend  of  Washington.— Sermon 
on  Arnold's  Treason. — Becomes  Lawyer  and  Editor  at  Hartford, 
Connecticut. — Revises  Watt's  Psalms  and  Hymns— Agent  of  Scioto 
Land  Company.— Visits  England  and  France— In  French  Revolu- 
tion.— Occupations  in  Europe.— Consul  at  Algiers — MakesaFoe- 
tunein  FRANCE. — RETURNS  TO  AMEBIC  A. — Remarkable  Prophecies  ib  his 
Columbiad. — Minister  to  France. — Charge  of  Religious  Afostacy...  20T 

CHAPTER   XXL 

James  Caldwell.— His  BlRTH  and  Ancestry. — Personal  Appearance. — 
Power  of  his  Voice.— His  Character. — His  Congregation  at  Eli/.a- 
bethtown.— Made  Chaplun.— His  Toast  on  the  Reception  of  the 
Declaration    of    Independence.— His   Activity.— Rewards    offered 


X  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 
FOR   HIS    CAPTURE. — BkMOYES   TO    CONNECTICUT    FARMS.— GOES    ARMED. — 
His     Seryici.-. —  Lmil   TO    Lee. — As-i>tant    CoMMISSABT     6  ENSEAL.— 
Last  Interview    wiiii    ms    Wire — ilu  Murder. — Fight    at    SpsiSO- 

kield.— '■  Give  'r.M  WATTS." — Mn:Di:r.  or  Caldwell. — His   Funeral. — 

lili  CHILDREN. Mu.Nl'MLNT  TO    HlM 217 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Benjamin  TRUMBULL, —  IIh  Dunn  and  EDUCATION. — Takes  BlDES  with  the 

COLONIES — ENTERS    Till     A  KM  Y    AS     CllAPLAlN. —  FloHlS    IK    TIIK     KaNK-. — 
CuiUoUS     In  TKRVlE.Y     will      W  A6UINOTON. — FlGHTS     AT     WllITEPLAU 
ANECDOTIC. —  FlOHTS   at   Nkh'  II  wen. —  Betiens  TO  ins  PARISH. —  WRITES 
the  UlSTOBYOf  Connecticut. — IDs  Death— His  PUBLICATIONS 233 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

Samuel  Kiekland. — TT13  Birth  and  Education. —  A  Teacher  in  Dr. 
Whbblook's  School. — Goes  a  Missionary  to  tiik  Indians  ok  New 
Ton  State.— His  LABORS  and  Perils. — His  Mission  BROKEN  UT  BT  the 
REVOLUTION. — Employed  Bl  ConGBBSSTO  BBBP  tiik  Indians  PBOM  JOIN- 
ING THE  BRITISH. —  PREVENTED  BT    BllANDT. —  A    CHAPLAIN    IN    S  U  I.LI  V  AN*3 

Bbig  IDS. —  Accompanies  lit  to  Genesee  Flats. — IDs  Services  rewarded 

HY    CoftOBKSS  —  SKTTLKS    A.M()N(i    TIIK    O.NEIDAS    AFTER    TIIK    \VaR. FOUNDS 

Hamilton  College. — Is  thrown  from  his  Horsk. — His  Death 239 

CHAPTER   XXIV.' 

James  Hall.— Hi-  Birth  and  Education. — Skttlkd  in  North  CAROLINA. — 
Bouses  ms  People  TO  oppose  thi;  Mothkk  Country. — Is  MADS  Captain 
Of  a  Company  or  Cavalry. — Acts  also  as  Chaplain. — MARCHES  to 
South  Carolina. — Ofkkkkd  tiik  Commission  of  Bbioadibb  Genkral  ey 
Grkknk.— Dkclinks. — His  after  Life 235 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

John  Oano. — The  Baptists  of  Virginia. — Gano's  Early  Life.— Visits  the 
South  and  Pbbaohes. — Arraignkd  for  it,  rut  is  Acquitted  and  Li- 
<  ensbd. — Anecdotes  01  ms  Coolness  and  Courage. — Settled  in  Nur.ru 
Cvrolina. — Offered  a  CAPTAIN'S  Commission  in  tiik  Army  AG  1  INST  THI 
Ciikrokkks. —  Dkclinks. — Returns  North.  — Finally  SETTLES  in  New 
York.  —  His  COHGBRGATIOB  BBQKBN  UP.  —  .Joins  THE  Ai:my  as  ClIAPLAIN. 
— LTndeb  In:!:  AT  White  Plains. — At  Trenton.— Chaplain  UNDBB  CLIN- 
TON at  Port  bContoombbt. — His  Dbbobhtion  or  the  taking  or  tun 
I 'op.t.  —  With  (Clinton's  Brigade  at  Alrany.— Its  Chaplain.— in  TUB 
Expedition  aoainbt  nra  Indians. — Annbodotbb  or  bin  in  this  Cam- 
paign.—Sebmon  ON  tiik  Fourth  of  July. — His  Faithfui.ni>-.— 0 
South  with  tiik  Army.  —  ADVANCING  AGAINST  CoBNWALLIS. — Kkturns 
to  his  Church  at  tiik  Close  of  the  "War. —  REMOVES  TO  Kentucky. — 
His  Death 2^0 

CHAPTER  XXVI 

Charles  CoMMINGS. —  An  Irishman  BT  BlBIMj  -OriilES  in  Virginia. — En- 
t  BBS  tiik  BflNBH  BT.  —  Fights  thi;  Indians. — Goes  armkd  TO  HIS  CHURCH. — 

Takes  tub  Lead  in  toe  political  Movements  of  the  People.— Chap- 
lain TO  Tin:  Army  in  THE  EXPEDITION  AGAINST  THE  Cherokee-.  — IDs 
Death 273 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Daniel  M<  ( '  \i.la.— His  Birth.  —  G  r  vdu  vtis  at  PRINCETON  when  Eighteen 

Teai  "ii'uils  1  01:  tub  Mini-iky.    Settles  in  Pennsylvania* 

— A  pp..  in  1  id  Chaplain  under  Genbbal  Thomson.— Is  taken  Pbisoneb 

IB    TBI    ATVACB    ON   "Three   River-.'"  — ThbOWN    in  .0  a  Prison  Ship.— 

Fin   -  ;         code.— ^Released  on   Pabolk  -Flees   to 

VIRGINIA.-  -hi  CAROLINA.      Bit  DEATH 27G 

CHAPTER  XXVIIL 
John  Wituebspoon,  D.D.— Tnb  Clebgt  as  Btatesmbn.— WrrnERSPOos    a 

n  HMANBT  BlBTIt.— II  is  l\  \  e-  y  Lite.— N  LICENSED  TO  PSI  \.<n.— JOINS 
tub  Army  Of  the  Pretender. — Taken  Prisoner  at  THE  Battle  of  Fal- 


CONTENTS.  xi 

PAGE 
KIRK.-—  EMINENCE   AS   A   TlTEOLOGIAN.—  ELECTED  PRESIDENT  OF  PRINCETON 

Colleoe. — Flattering    Reception    in    this   Country. — Takes    Bides 

WITH  TUK  COLONIES.— Kl.l'i  I'ED  MEMBER  OF  THE  NbW  JERSEY  LeGIS- 
I.ATlT.K. — SCATHING  Attack  ON  Governor  Franklin. —  ELECTED  Mk.\I- 
RBB  OF  CONGBBSS. —  II  IS  SPEECH  ON  TUP.   DECLARATION    OF    1.N  DEPENDENCE. 

His  Great  Services  in  Congress. — il;s  Death 230 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

David  Avery. — TIis  Birth  and  Character. — Converted  under  Whitfield. 
—  Leaves  his  Trade  to  Study  fur  the  Ministry. — Enters  Dr.  Wheel- 
ock's  Charity  School. — Graduates  at  Yale  College. — Studies  Divin- 
ity.— a  Missionary  AMONG  SOW  Indians. — Settled  at  Gaysboro,  Yee- 
most. — 1 1  is  Patriotism. — Raisks  A  Company  and  Marches  to  Boston.— 
Made  (  11  v plain. — Noddle's  Island. — Present  at  the  Battle  of  Bunkee 
Hill. — 1'raving  foi*.  Victory. — Accompanies  Washington  through 
the  Jerseys. — Wounded  at  Trenton. — At  Valley  Forge. — At  Ticon- 
deroga.— At  Bennington.— His  Death 287 

CHAPTER    XXX. 

Israel  Evans. — TTis  Character. — Ordained  Chaplain  in  the  Army. — Re- 
mains with  the  New  IIampshiue  Brigade  through  the  War. — Stands 
reside  Washington  at  Yorktown. — Anecdote  of  Him  and  Washing- 
ton.— His  Sermon  on  the  Field  of  Battle. — Settled  at  Concord, 
New  Hampshire.— His  Death 300 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Cotton  Mather  Smith. — His  Birth  and  Parentage. — A  Teacher  among 
the  Indians.— Studies  Theology. — Is  Settled  at  Sharon,  Conn. — In- 
fluence of  the  Clergy  of  Connecticut  in  bringing  about  the  Rev- 
olution.— His  views  of  the  Struggle  between  the  Colonies  and 
Mother  Country. — The  Part  he  took  in  it. — Patriotism  of  his  CON- 
gregation.— is  made  chaplain,  and  marches  to  tlconderoga. — iils 
Devotion  to  the  Sick. — Seized  with  the  Camp  Fever. — Returns 
Home. — Invasion  of  Burgoyne. — His  Sermon  JU6T  before  the  Final 
Victory  at  Saratoga.  —  Thrilling  Scene.  —  His  Character.  —  His 
Death 305 

CHAPTER    XXXII. 

JuDAn  Champion,  TnE  Pastor  of  Litchfield,  Connecticut. — Hrs  Prayers 
for  his  Country. — Extraordinary  Scene  in  Church  on  the  Arrival 
of  News  from  the  Army. — Women  "Working  on  the  Sabbath  to  pre- 
pare Garments  for  the  Soldiers. — The  Pastor  on  the  Field  of 
Battle 31S 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

Alexander  McWhorter. — His  Early  Life. — Zeal  in  the  Cause  of  Lib- 
erty.— Sent  South  by  Congress  to  rouse  the  Inhabitants. — Accom- 
panies Washington  IN  His  Retreat  through  New  Jersey. — Made 
Chaplain  of  Knox's  Brigade. — Leaves  the  Army. — Settles  in  North 
Carolina. — His  Library  and  Furniture  destroyed  BY  the  British.— 
Flees  to  Pennsylvania — Sent  to  England  to  raise  Funds  for  Prince- 
ton College.— Revisits  his  Native  Place.— His  Death 327 

CHAPTER  XXXIY. 

Moses  Allen. — His  Early  Life.— A  Friend  of  Madison.  —  Settles  in 
Midway.  Georgia. — His  Patriotic  Efforts. — Chaplain  in  the  Army. — 
His  Hoube  and  Church  Burned. — In  the  Battle  before  Savannah. — 
Is  taken  Prisoner. — CONFINED  ON  BOARD  a  Prison  Ship.— His  SUFFER- 
INGS.— Brutality  of  his  Captors. — Attempts  to  Escape. — Is  Druwned. 
—Denied  Decent  Burial 331 

CHAPTER   XXXV. 

Benjamin  Pomeroy.— His  Early  Life. — Becomes  a  "  New  Light." — Is  Per- 
secuted by  the  State,  and  Finally  Deprived  of   his  Salary. —  B 
comes   Chaplain    in    tub    French    War. — His    Lrtteb    to    his    Wifh 


XII  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

FILING      Till:     EXECUTION      OF     A      CRIMINAL. — At     SEVENTY     BKfOMW 

Chaplain    in   the   Revolutionary   Akmy. — li is    Venerable   Appear- 
ance. — Touching  Appeals. — His  Death 341 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

John  Rogers— Ha  Reputation  Abroad.— His  Patriotism. — Introduction 
to  Washington. — Chaplain  in  Heath's  Brigade. — Resigns  and  com 
to  Georgia. — On  his  Uki  urn  made  Chaplain  to  the  New  York  Pro- 
vincial ASSEMBLY. — Becomes  Memker  Of  the  Legislature.  —  Ch  \n- 
<  ellor  of  the  Regents  uf  the  University 347 

CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

George  Dutfield. — Descended  from  the  Huguenots. — Studies  for  mn 
Ministry. — Is  Settled  in  Carlisle. — His  Parishioners  go  armed  to 
Church. — 1 1  is  Patriotism. — Settles  in  Philadelphia. — King's  Mag- 
istrate attempts  to  Stop  his  Preaching. — Is  brought  up  before  the 
Mayor  on  Charge  of  Riot. — Excitement  of  the  People. — His  Pop- 
ularity with  Members  of  Congress. — Stirring  Address. — Bkcomes 
Chaplain  in  the  Army. — Preaches  to  the  Soldiehs  from  the  Fours  of 
a  Trek. — Buries  a  Brother  Chaplain  who  has  been  Murdered. — 
Narrow  Escape. — Example  of  his  Faith. — His  Death 350 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

David  Sandford.— His  Patriotism. — His  Personal  Appearance.— His  Elo- 
quence.— Gives  his  Salary  to  the  Cause  of  Liberty. — Becomes  Chap- 
lain.— Expressive  Countenance. — Anecdote  Illustrating  It. — Stern- 
Rebukes.— His  Piety. — His  Death CC1 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Nathan  Ker.— His  BiRTn  and  Ancestry. — Anecdote  of  his  Grandfather. — 
His  PATRIOTISM  —Abjures  all  Allegiance  to  Great  Britain.— -Tories 
and  Indians. — Massacre  at  Minisink. — Slaughter  of  Mr.  Kee's  Gov- 
'.legation. — Anecdote  of  Him  and  Lafayette. — A  Friend  of  Wash- 
ton. — Loans  the  Government  Eight  Thousand  Dollars,  poi  WHICH 
Hi  received  Nothing  but  "  Old  Liberty.'" — Celebration  at  the  Close 
of  the  War 3C5 

CHAPTER  XL. 

JonN  Hurst.— His  Patriotism.— Sermon  to  the  Soldiers 372 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

William  McKay  Tennent.— Uncertainty  as  to  his  Identity  WWII  the  BCB- 
.ii.,  r  or  the  Following  Sketch.— Patriotic  Bebmon  delivered  bepori 

the  Troops  at  Ticonderoga. — His  Career  after  the  War.— His  Death.  376 

CHAPTER  XLIL 

Ml,  Boardman.— Chaplain  to  Durkee's  Regiment.— His  Diary 881 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 

Mr.  Magoon. — Extracts  from  his  Address  to  Haslett  s  Battalion GsQ 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 

Thomas  Coombs.— Sermon  on  Fast-day  and  Patriotic  Sentiments 302 

CHAPTER  XLV. 
A  Roman  Oatholio  chaplain. — Cath.m.hs  iiati  Pouant  wrrn   Protksti 

4KT1    rBOM     "I..    FIRST    FOB    LIBERTY.— CaUSB    OP  TUli   Sim.ui.ae   Cui\ 

Dl  m  I  t  .)n.v  Address 39-4 

CHAPTER  XLVI. 
A  Chaplain  at  Buandywine.— Address  before  the  Battle 3'JS 


CHAPTER     I. 

Religious  Element  of  the  Revolution. — Not  sufficiently  dwelt  on  by  His- 
torians.— Influence  and  Action  of  Pastors. — Example  of  in  Stockbridge, 
Mass.— Interesting  Scene. 

Notwithstanding  the  numberless  books  that  have 
been  written  on  the  American  Revolution,  there  is  one 
feature  of  it  which  has  been  sadly  overlooked.  I  mean 
the  religious  element.  In  this  respect  there  is  not  a 
single  history  of  that  great  struggle  which  is  not  so 
radically  defective  as  to  render  the  charge  against  it  of 
incompleteness  a  valid  one.  This  omission  on  the  part 
of  historians,  seems  the  more  remarkable  from  the  fact 
that  common  belief,  the  universal  imj)ression,  is  against 
it.  There  has  scarcely  been  a  celebration  of  the  day 
on  which  our  independence  was  declared,  in  which  this 
religious  element  is  not  referred  to  as  constituting  one 
of  the  chief  features  of  the  Revolution,  yet  it  receives 
a  subordinate  place  in  history.  One  reason  of  this, 
doubtless,  is,  that  it  did  not  enter  into  the  machinery 
of  political  or  military  life.  It  was  not  an  organized 
force  that  could  be  numerically  calculated  or  physi- 
cally disposed  of  in  making  outward  achievements. 

To  omit  Religion  in  a  history  of  the  Crusades,  would 
be  like  building  a  structure  without  laying  a  founda- 
tion, for  that  great  movement  was  begun  and  carried 
forward  by  religious  feeling  alone.  The  banner  that 
moved  at  the  head  of  crowding  millions  was  the  Cross 


14  11  E  L  I  G  I  O  U  B      K  L  I  M  EXT 

of  Christ,  and  he  that  bore  it  a  priest,  while  the  great 
object  to  be  accomplished  was  the  rescue  of  the  Sepul- 
chre of  the  Saviour  from  infidel  hands. 

So  of  the  English  Revolution  under  Cromwell:  no 
one  would  dream  of  writing  its  history  without  making 
religion  and  religious  men  a  prominent  and  perpetual 
force.  In  short,  a  history  that  should  ignore  them, 
would  be  false  and  worthless.  The  reason  is,  that  here, 
too,  they  formed  a  part  of  the  physical  machinery  by 
which  the  revolution  was  carried  on.  The  camp  was  a 
prayer-meeting — its  passwords  Scriptural  phrases,  and 
the  dread  slogan  of  the  army  the  language  of  the  sanc- 
tuary. Freedom  and  equal  rights,  was  not  the  war- 
cry  of  the  Invincible  Ironsides  ;  but  when  they,  with 
their  helmets  on,  and  their  eyes  bent  in  wrath  on  their 
enemies,  swept  like  a  thunder-cloud  to  battle,  the 
charge-cry  that  rolled  so  terribly  over  the  field  was 
61  Eeligiox  \" 

In  our  Ke volution  the  religious  element  was  not  par- 
amount, and  hence  did  not  give  shape  and  character  to 
the  whole  physical  structure  and  organization.  It  kept 
more  within  its  appropriate  sphere,  and  stood  behind 
an  1  sustained  the  political  and  military  organizations  of 
the  land,  rather  than  formed  a  part  of  them.  But  it  is 
not  on  that  account  to  be  overlooked.  He  who  forgets 
or  under-estimates  the  moral  forces  that  uphold  or  bear 
on  a  great  struggle,  lacks  the  chief  qualities  of  a  his- 
torian. 

It  is  unquestionably  true  that,  if  the  clergy  of  New 
England  had  from  the  outset  taken  the  decided  and  de- 
termined stand  against  the  cause  of  the  colonies,  which 


OF     THE     REVOLUTION.  15 

they  did  for  it,  the  result  xoould  have  been  totally  dif- 
ferent. Why  then  should  not  they  and  their  sermons, 
addresses,  and  prayers,  have  as  prominent  a  place  it 
the  history  of  the  Revolution,  as  town  committees  of 
safety,  and  local  petitions,  and  resolutions,  and  remon- 
strances, which  the  historian  thinks  so  necessary  to  the 
completeness  of  his  narrative  ?  That  omission  in  our 
histories  I  design  in  these  pages  as  far  as  possible  to 
fill  up. 

There  is  some  excuse  for  the  historian  in  not  giving 
a  greater  prominence  to  the  religious  element  of  the 
Revolution,  for  its  development,  force,  and  the  efforts 
it  caused  to  be  put  forth,  did  not  take  the  shape  of  town 
meetings,  and  form  part  of  the  political  and  military 
records  of  the  times.  It  is  impossible,  therefore,  to  col- 
lect together  the  unreported  harangues,  and  sermons, 
and  unorganized  efforts  that  lay  at  the  bottom  of  its 
power.  I  have  had  this  difficulty  to  contend  with  an 
every  step. 

It  is  difficult  in  these  days,  when  chaplains  in  the 
army  arc  looked  upon  simply  as  a  necessary  part  of  its 
methodical  organization,  a  set  of  half  officers,  half 
civilians  who  are  not  allowed  to  fight,  and  often  can 
not  preach,  to  get  a  proper  conception  of  those  times 
when  their  appeals  thrilled  the  ranks,  and  made  each 
hand  clutch  its  weapon  with  a  firmer  grasp,  and  when 
their  prayers  filled  each  heart  with  a  lofty  enthusiasm. 
Then  the  people  composed  the  army  ;  and  when  the 
man  of  God  addressed  the  crowding  battalions,  he 
addressed  the  young  men  and  old  men  of  his  flock, 
who  looked  up  to  him  with  love  and  reverence,  and 


16  RELIGIOUS     I  LEMENT 

believed  him  almost  as  they  did  the  Bible.  Could  the 
history  of  each  volunteer  band,  as  it  left  its  native 
valley — the  enthusiasm  kindled  by  the  pastor's  address, 
the  courage  imparted  by  his  solemn  parting  blessing, 
and  assurance  that  God  smiled  on  them — be  given,  wc 
should  have  a  revolutionary  page  that  would  thrill  the 
heart. 

The  religious  sentiment  was  stronger  in  New  Eng- 
land than  in  the  other  colonies,  from  the  fact  that  the 
original  settlers  were  driven  there  by  religious  persecu- 
tion. Having  fled  across  the  ocean  to  secure  religious 
freedom,  it  was  natural  they  should  consider  it  to  be 
the  chief  end  and  purpose  of  all  government.  Hence 
all  rules,  regulations,  and  laws  for  their  government, 
were,  figuratively  speaking,  first  baptized  before  they 
were  allowed  to  become  a  part  of  the  civil  system. 
Hence,  too,  in  the  early  wars  of  the  colonies,  chaplains 
became  a  necessary  part  of  the  army.  Men  who  had 
been  in  the  conventicles  of  Cromwell's  troops,  and 
heard  Baxter  preach  and  pray,  would  not  be  apt  to 
forget  a  chaplain  when  organizing  an  expedition.  The 
office  at  that  time  was  no  sinecure,  nor  unattended 
with  danger,  and  men  of  nerve  and  force,  as  well  as 
piety,  were  sought  after. 

Those  who  were  chaplains  during  the  French  and 
Indian  war  became  at  its  close  pastors  of  churches, 
and  although  most  of  those  who  were  alive  at  the 
breaking  out  of  the  Revolution  were  too  old  to  become 
chaplains  once  more,  they  still  held  to  their  former 
belief  in  the  right  of  resistance,  and  taught  it  in  their 
congregations.    The  same  was  true  of  the  entire  clergy 


OF     THE     REVOLUTION.  17 

throughout  the  New  England  Colonies,  and  though 
some  were  not  so  positive  and  aggressive  in  their  action 
as  others,  yet  they  were  equally  decided,  and  exerted 
though  a  quiet,  a  deep  influence  on  the  Revolution. 
They  were  humble  pastors,  from  whose  flocks  were 
drawn  the  numberless  little  companies  of  minute-men, 
who  formed  the  first  army  against  which  the  tides  of 
British  valor  rolled  in  vain  on  the  heights  of  Bunker 
Hill.  In  every  quiet  little  valley  and  sequestered 
nook  in  New  England,  the  pastor  had  taught  the  doc- 
trines of  freedom,  and  preached  the  duty  of  resistance 
to  oppression. 

The  farmers  and  mechanics  listened  with  reverence 
and  confidence  to  these  teachings,  and  showed  their 
faith  by  their  works  when  the  hour  of  trial  came.  At 
the  battle-cry,  that  rolled  over  the  land  from  Lexington 
and  Concord,  they  shouldered  their  muskets,  and  went 
furth  with  the  blessing  of  their  pastor  on  their  heads 
and  his  fervent  prayers  for  their  success  following  their 
footsteps.  If  the  scenes  that  transpired  in  the  count- 
less villages  and  hamlets  of  New  England,  when  the 
news  of  the  first  blood,  shed  by  British  troops,  swept 
over  the  colonies,  and  the  first  uprising  of  the  people 
took  place,  could  be  described,  just  as  they  occurred, 
in  all  the  beauty,  pathos,  patriotism,  and  religion  that 
characterized  them,  the  Revolutionary  struggle  would 
possess  an  interest  that  all  its  thrilling  battles  and 
perilous  marches,  deeply  as  they  enlist  our  sympathies, 
can  never  impart.  The  description  of  a  single  one, 
that  took  place  in  one  of  the  remotest  towns  of  Mas- 
sachusetts—  Old    Stockbridge  —  must   answer   as   an 


18  RELIGIOUS     ELEMENT 

illustration  of  what  transpired  every  where  throughout 
the  country. 

For  a  lonsr  time  matters  had  been  drawing  to  a 
crisis  ;  the  colonists  refused  to  yield  their  sacred 
rights,  and  the  mother  country  steadily  increased  the 
pressure  of  her  powrer  to  force  obedience,  till  she  could 
go  no  farther  unless  she  resorted  to  military  force. 
Hence  the  whole  country  was  in  a  state  of  the  most 
painful  suspense  and  expectation.  But  firmly  resolved 
to  meet  open  force  with  force,  they  had  arranged 
relays  of  horses  and  couriers  along  the  highways  and 
byeways  of  New  England,  to  speed  the  news  of  the 
first  shedding  of  American  blood.  To  be  ready  for 
these  fearful  tidings,  minute-men  had  been  enrolled 
in  every  town,  prepared  to  march  on  a  moment's 
notice. 

In  Stockbridge,  Berkshire  Count}',  Mass.,  Deacon 
Cleveland  and  another  leading  member  of  the  church 
had  been  selected,  for  their  positions  in  the  centre  of 
the  valley  and  of  the  village,  to  spread  the  note 
of  alarm.  The  son  of  the  Deacon,  a  young  man  only 
seventeen  years  of  age  at  the  time,  gave  to  a  friend 
of  the  writer  a  description  of  the  reception  of  the 
news  in  that  little  village. 

One  quiet  Sabbath  morning,  when  all  waa  still,  as 
it  ever  was  in  that  peaceful  valley  on  that  holy  day, 
he  was  suddenly  startled  by  the  report  of  a  musket. 
On  going  out  to  ascertain  what  it  meant,  he  saw  his 
father  in  the  hack  yard  with  the  discharged  piece  in 
his  hand.  Before  he  had  time  to  express  his  wonder, 
another   report   broke   the   stillness   of  the   Sabbath 


OFTHE     REVOLUTION.  19 

morning,  and  as  the  smoke  curled  up  in  the  damp  at- 
mosphere, he  saw  in  the  neighboring  yard  one  of  the 
chief  pillars  of  the  church,  standing  with  his  musket 
in  his  hand.  He  paused  astounded,  not  knowing  what 
awful  phenomenon  this  strange  event  portended.  He 
said  that  he  thought  the  judgment  day  had  come. 
But  in  a  few  moments  he  noticed  men  hurrying  along 
the  hitherto  deserted  street,  with  weapons  in  their 
hands.  One  by  one  they  entered  his  father's  gate,  and 
gathered  on  the  low  stoop.  The  flashing  eye  and 
flushed  cheek  told  that  something  eventful  had  trans- 
pired— and  there  had. 

When  the  report  of  those  two  muskets  echoed  along 
the  sweet  valley  of  the  Housatonic  and  up  the  adja- 
cent slopes,  the  sturdy  farmers  knew  what  it  meant. 
The  father,  just  preparing  for  the  duties  of  the  sanc- 
tuary, heard  it,  and,  flinging  aside  his  Sabbath  gar- 
ments, hastily  resumed  his  work-day  dress,  and  taking 
down  his  musket  strained  his  wife  and  children  in  one 
long  farewell  embrace  to  his  bosom,  then  turned  from 
the  home  he  might  never  sec  again.  The  young  man 
buckled  on  his  knapsack,  and  amid  sobs  and  tears  shut 
the  little  farm  gate  behind  him,  the  fire  in  his  eye  dry- 
ing up  the  tears  as.  fast  as  they  welled  to  the  surface. 
Although  the  heart  heaved  with  emotion,  the  step 
was  firm  and  the  brow  knit  and  resolute. 

In  a  short  time  the  little  porch  was  crowded  with 
men.  A  moment  after,  Dr.  West,  the  pastor,  was 
seen  slowly  descending  the  hill  toward  the  same  place 
of  rendezvous.  It  was  a  cold,  drizzly  morning,  and 
as,  with  his  umbrella  over  his  head,  and  the  Bible 


20  RELIGIOUS     ELEMENT. 

under  his  arm,  he  entered  the  dooryard,  his  benevolent 
face  revealed  the  emotion  that  was  struggling  within. 
He,  too,  knew  the  meaning  of  those  shots  ;  they  were 
the  signals  agreed  upon  to  inform  the  minute-men  of 
Stockbridge  that  their  brethren  in  the  East  had  closed 
with  the  foe  in  battle.  He  ascended  the  steps,  and, 
opening  the  Bible,  read  a  few  appropriate  passages, 
and  then  sent  up  a  fervent  prayer  to  Heaven.  When 
he  ceased,  the  rattling  of  arms  was  heard.  A  short 
and  solemn  blessing  closed  the  impressive  scene,  and 
before  twelve  o'clock  twenty  men,  with  knapsacks  on 
their  backs  and  muskets  on  their  shoulders,  had 
started  on  foot  for  Boston,  nearly  two  hundred  miles 
distant. 

Oh,  how  deej)  down  in  the  consciences  of  men  had 
the  principles  of  that  struggle  sunk,  when  they  made 
those  Puritans  forget  the  solemn  duties  of  the  sanctu- 
ary for  the  higher  duties  of  the  battle-field.  They  had 
been  taught  from  the  pulpit  that  it  was  the  cause  of 
God,  and  they  took  it  up  in  the  full  belief  they  had 
His  blessing  and  His  promise.  Such  scenes  as  these 
were  enacted  every  where,  and  from  the  consecrating 
hand  of  the  man  of  God  went  forth  the  thousand 
separate  bands  that  soon  after  met  and  stood  shoulder 
to  shoulder  on  the  smoking  heights  of  Bunker  Hill. 


CHAPTER    II. 

Systematic  Influence  of  the  Clergy. — Election  Sermons  before  the  Revo- 
lution.— SUCTION  Sermons  a  part  of  the  Proceedings  of  the  Provincial 
Legislature. — Samuel  Cook's  Sermon,  1770.— Mr.  Tucker's,  in  1771.— Charles 
Turner's,  in  1773. — Gad.  Hitchcock's,  in  1774. — "The  Tea  Overboard."1 — 
President  Langdon's,  in  1775. — "Bunker  Hill, — Monitions  ok  the  Coming 
Storm.1" — These  Sermons  the  Political  Pamphlets  of  the  Times. 

There  was  one  way  in  which  the  clergy  of  New 
England  acted  directly  and  systematically  on  the  pop- 
ular judgment  and  heart,  in  producing  and  sustaining 
the  revolution  which,  it  seems  a  little  strange,  should 
have  escaped  the  attention  of  those  historians,  who 
have  investigated  so  carefully  the  means  by  which  it  was 
brought  about.  I  refer  to  the  annual  "  election  ser- 
mon/' as  it  was  called,  that  was  preached  before  the 
Governor  and  House  of  Eepresentatives,  especially 
in  Massachusetts,  at  the  election  of  His  Majesty's 
Council. 

These  sermons  were  as  much  a  part  of  the  stately 
and  imposing  ceremonies  as  the  election  itself.  The 
ablest  divines  in  the  Colony  were  invited  to  deliver 
them — not  as  a  mere  compliment  to  religion,  nor  were 
they  listened  to  simply  with  that  quiet  decorum  and 
respectful  attention,  which  is  accorded  in  ordinary 
worship,  but  with  the  deep  interest  of  those  seeking 
light  and  instruction.  The  preachers  did  not  confine 
themselves  to  a  dissertation  on  doctrinal  truths  nor 


22  ELECTION     SERMONS 

mere  exhortation  to  godly  behavior.  They  grappled 
with  the  great  question  of  the  rights  of  man,  and 
especially  the  rights  of  the  colonists  in  their  contro- 
versy with  the  mother  country.  In  reading  these  dis- 
courses one  is  struck  with  the  thorough  knowledge 
those  divines  possessed  of  the  origin,  nature,  object, 
character  and  end  of  all  true  government.  They  dealt 
in  no  high  sounding  phrases  of  liberty  and  equality  ; 
they  went  to  the  very  foundations  of  society,  showed 
what  the  natural  rights  of  man  were,  and  how  those 
rights  became  modified  when  men  gathered  into  com- 
munities ;  how  all  laws  and  regulations  were  designed 
to  be  for  the  good  of  the  governed  ;  that  the  object  of 
concentrated  power  was  to  protect  not  invade  personal 
liberty,  and  when  it  failed  to  do  this,  and  oppressed 
instead  of  protected,  assailed  instead  of  defended  rights, 
resistance  became  lawful,  nay,  obligatory.  They 
showed  also  the  nature  of  compacts  and  charters,  and 
applied  the  whole  subject  to  the  case  of  the  Colonies. 

The  profound  thought  and  unanswerable  arguments, 
found  in  these  sermons,  show  that  the  clergy  were  not 
a  whit  behind  the  ablest  statesmen  of  the  day  in  their 
knowledge  of  the  great  science  of  human  government. 
In  reading  them  one  gets  at  the  true  pulse  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  can  trace  the  steady  progress  of  the  public 
sentiment.  They  are  like  the  hands  of  a  clock  that,  at 
regular  intervals,  tell  the  time  of  day.  The  publica- 
tion of  these  sermons  in  a  pamphlet  form  was  a  part 
of  the  regular  proceedings  of  the  assembly,  and  being 
scattered  abroad  over  the  land,  clothed  with  the  double 
sanction  of  their  high  authors  and  the  endorsement  of 


BEFORE     THE     REVOLUTION.  23 

the  legislature,  became  the  text  books  of  human  rights 
in  every  parish.  They  were  regarded  as  the  political 
pamphlets  of  the  day.  Thus  the  thorough  indoctrina- 
tion of  the  people  into  the  duties  and  powers  of  gov- 
ernment, the  reciprocal  obligations  resting  on  them 
and  the  mother  country  were  reduced  to  a  system. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  newspapers  at  that  day 
were  a  novelty,  and  ideas  were  not  so  easily  dissemi- 
nated as  now.  The  pulpit,  therefore,  was  the  most 
direct  and  effectual  way  of  reaching  the  masses.  The 
House  of  Representatives  of  Massachusetts  knew  this, 
and  passed  resolutions  requesting  the  clergy  to  make 
the  question  of  the  rights  of  the  Colonies  and  the  op- 
pressive conduct  of  the  mother  country  a  topic  of  the 
pulpit  on  week  days.  They  thus  proclaimed  to  all 
future  time  their  solemn  convictions  of  their  depen- 
dence on  the  pulpit  for  that  patriotic  feeling  and  unity 
of  action,  which  they  knew  to  be  indispensable  to  suc- 
cess. Here,  then,  the  historian  can  lay  his  hand  on 
the  deep,  solid  substratum  that  underlaid  the  Revo- 
lution. 

Thus  as  far  back  as  1770  we  can  see  in  the  election 
sermons  of  Massachusetts  the  dim  foreshadowings  of 
the  coming  contest.  In  that  year  Samuel  Cook,  of  the 
Second  Church  of  Cambridge,  preached  the  sermon  be- 
fore Gov.  Hutchinson,  the  Council  and  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives. He  took  for  his  text,  2  Samuel,  xxiii. 
3d  and  4th  verses  :  "  He  that  ruleth  over  men  must 
be  just  ruling  in  the  fear  of  God.  And  he  shall  be  as 
the  light  of  the  morning,  when  the  sun  riseth,  even  a 
morning  without  clouds,  as  the  tender  grass  springing 


24  ELECTION     SERMONS 

out  of  the  earth  by  clear  shining  after  rain."  He  did 
not  apply  this  text  primarily  or  chiefly  to  the  duty  of 
rulers  to  be  just,  virtuous  and  God  fearing,  but  to 
them  as  laio  makers.  As  I  remarked  of  the  sermons 
in  general,  he  began  by  describing  the  rights  which 
man  possessed  in  a  state  of  nature,  showed  in  what 
way  they  became  modified  when  men  were  collected 
into  communities,  and  framed  laws  for  the  protection 
of  all.  He  thus  gradually  brought  before  them  the 
design  and  end  of  true  government,  viz.,  the  protection 
of  the  rights  of  all.  Hence  followed  the  necessity  of 
obedience  to  laws  and  constitutions.  While  on  this 
topic,  he  uttered  a  truth  which  men  would  do  well  to 
ponder  at  this  day  :  u  A  free  state,"  he  says,  "  will  no 
longer  continue  so  than  tohile  the  constitution  is  main- 
tained entire  in  all  its  branches  and  connections.7'  He 
then  quotes  the  New  England  Charter,  and  asserts 
that  it  is  not  an  "act  of  grace,  but  a  compact"  a 
mutual  agreement,  the  conditions  of  which,  while  the 
Colonies  observe,  the  government  at  home  must  respect. 
He  then  speaks  of  the  present  indications  of  an  at- 
tempt to  concentrate  the  power  in  the  hands  of  the 
governor,  and  declares,  when  that  is  accomplished,  "  the 
days  of  liberty  are  over."  "America,"  he  exclaims, 
now  pleads  her  right  to  her  possessions,  which  she  can 
not  resign  while  she  apprehends  she  has  truth  and  jus- 
tice on  her  side."  After  thus  ably  explaining  the 
rights  of  man  by  nature,  the  necessity  of  laws  in  com- 
munities, the  object  and  end  of  government,  the  sa- 
cred nature  of  constitutions  and  compacts,  and  the 
duty  of  freemen  to  guard  with  jealous  care  the  liberty 


BEFORE     THE     REVOLUTION.  25 

guaranteed  by  them — he  speaks  of  the  present  claims 
of  the  Colonists,  which  the  government  hesitates  to 
acknowledge,  and  then  turns  to  His  Majesty's  Governor 
and  Council  and  the  House  of  Kepresentatives,  and 
rings  in  their  attentive  listening  ears,  u  These  their 
claims  the  Americans  consider  not  as  novel  and  wan- 
tonly made,  but  founded  in  nature  and  in  compact,  in 
their  rights  as  men  and  British  subjects  —  the  same 
which  their  forefathers,  the  first  occupants,  made  and 
asserted  at  the  time  of  their  removal  with  their  effects 
into  this  wilderness ;"  and  winds  up  with,  "  Let 
every  attempt  to  secure  our  liberties  be  conducted 
with  manly  fortitude,  but  with  the  respectful  decency 
which  reason  approves,  and  which  alone  gives  weight 
to  the  most  salutary  measures."  Let  His  Majesty's 
Governor  and  Council  hear  that  and  ponder  it  well — 
let  His  Majesty  across  the  ocean  read  it,  for  his  subjects 
on  this  side  will,  and  lay  it  to  heart,  and  every  pulpit 
will  echo  it.  Thus  five  years  before  the  children  of  a 
common  stock  closed  in  deadly  conflict  at  Lexington 
and  Concord  did  such  ominous  truths  fall  on  the 
hearts  of  ruler  and  ruled. 

[1771.] 

The  next  year,  on  the  29th  of  May,  John  Tucker, 
of  the  First  Church  of  Newbury,  preached  the  sermon, 
taking  his  text  from  1  Peter,  ii.  13,  14,  15,  16  :  "  Sub- 
mit yourselves  to  every  ordinance  of  man  for  the 
Lord's  sake,  whether  it  be  the  king  as  supreme,"  &c. 
This  sermon  reveals  the  increased  excitement  in  the 
Colonies,    and   shows   what   a   more  determined  and 

2 


26  ELECTION     SERMONS 

sterner  attitude  the  clergy  had  taken.  He  goes  over 
the  same  ground  that  Mr.  Cook  did  with  regard  to  the 
origin  and  design  of  government  and  the  sacredness 
of  compacts.  While  acknowledging  that  government 
is  the  work  of  man,  he  declares  it  derives  all  its  pow- 
ers from  God,  and  hence  its  enactments  must  be  in 
accordance  with  his  will,  and  boldly  asserts  that  "  the 
people  as  well  as  their  rulers  are  the  proper  judges  of 
the  civil  constitution  they  are  under  and  of  their  own 
rights  and  principles/'  When  he  comes  to  apply  the 
text  in  requiring  submission  to  rulers  he  enters  into  a 
full  consideration  of  what  kind  of  submission  is  due. 
He  says  the  duties  of  ruled  and  ruler  are  reciprocal, 
and  "  Unlimited  submission  is  not  due  to  government 
in  a  free  state.  There  are  certain  boundaries  beyond 
which  submission  can  not  be  justly  required,  and 
should  not  be  yielded.  They  have,"  he  says,  "  an  un- 
doubted privilege  to  complain  of  unconstitutional 
measures  in  government,  and  of  unlawful  encroach- 
ments upon  their  rights,  and  may,  while  they  do  it 
with  becoming  decency,  do  it  with  that  noble  freedom 
and  firmness  which  a  sense  of  wrong  joined  with  the 
love  of  liberty  will  inspire/'  Warming  with  his  sub- 
ject he  goes  farther,  and  declares  that  they  not  only 
have  a  right  to  complain,  but  that  resistance  may  be- 
come a  duty.  He  does  not,  he  says,  presume  to  draw 
the  line  in  the  present  controversy  where  resistance 
should  begin,  but  declares,  "  Sirs,  it  is  not  necessary 
if  our  constitutional  rights  and  privileges  should  be 
demanded,  we  should  readily  yield  to  the  unrighteous 
claim.     Should  we  thus  meanly  resign  them  up,  and 


BEFORE     THE     REVOLUTION.  27 

take  in  exchange  the  chains  of  slavery  for  ourselves 
and  children,  could  we  forgive  ourselves  ?  Would  our 
unhappy  posterity  forgive  us  ?  Would  we  not  deserve 
the  punishment  while  we  felt  the  guilt  of  assassins,  for 
having  stabbed  the  vitals  of  our  country  ?"  Well 
may  that  grave  audience  listen  in  breathless  silence, 
and  the  Governor  and  Council  look  meaningly  on  each 
other,  for  in  those  swelling  tones  with  which  the  min- 
ister of  God  pours  forth  these  bold,  exciting  truths 
they  hear  the  distant  bugle  call  to  rally  for  freedom. 
Such  truths,  sown  broadcast  over  the  land,  and  falling 
on  hearts  already  on  fire,  exerted  an  influence  that,  at 
the  present  day,  it  is  impossible  to  conceive.  It  must 
be  remembered  they  were  uttered  at  the  seat  of  power 
by  men  of  high  standing  and  influence,  and  sent  abroad 
by  that  power  to  the  people. 

[1773.] 

In  1773  the  sermon  was  preached  by  Charles  Tur- 
ner from  Romans,  xiii.  4,  in  which  he  meets  the  objec- 
tion that  ministers  should  not  meddle  in  politics,  and 
while  he  concedes  its  force  in  mere  local  matters,  he 
boldly  asserts  that  it  is  their  duty  to  interfere  where 
the  liberties  of  the  land  are  assailed,  not  only  for  the 
sake  of  their  own  posterity  as  well  as  that  of  others, 
but  because  "  when  the  civil  rights  of  a  country  receive 
a  shock,  it  may  justly  render  the  ministers  of  God 
deeply  thoughtful  for  the  safety  of  sacred  privileges — 
for  religious  liberty  is  so  blended  with  civil,  that  if 
one  falls  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  the  other  will 
continue/' 


28  ELECTION     SERMONS. 

[1774.] 

The  next  spring,  May  25th,  1774,  the  tone  of  the  elec- 
tion sermon,  preached  by  Gad  Hitchcock,  of  Pembroke, 
furnished  the  key-note  of  public  feeling,  and  showed 
clearly  the  increased  state  of  excitement  and  the  stronger 
spirit  of  resistance  abroad  in  the  Colonies.  He  took  his 
text  from  Prov.  xxix.  2  :  "  When  the  righteous  are  in 
authority  the  people  rejoice,  but  when  the  wicked  bear 
rule  the  people  mourn/'  The  very  text  was  like  a 
trumpet  call  to  battle.  To  appreciate  fully  its  force, 
and  the  telling  effect  of  the  sermon  on  those  who 
listened  to  it,  and  the  people  who  read  it,  we  must 
recall  the  exciting  scenes  of  the  autumn  and  winter 
that  had  passed.  First  came  the  news  that  a  cargo 
of  tea  had  been  ordered  to  Boston,  when  the  bells 
were  set  ringing,  and  the  people  hastened  to  Lib- 
erty Tree  to  consult  on  the  matter.  Exciting  har- 
angues were  made,  and  a  committee  appointed  to 
wait  on  the  consignees,  and  to  request  them  not  to 
receive  the  tea.  The  whole  town  was  in  commotion, 
and  Gov.  Hutchinson,  in  alarm,  prepared  to  flee  to 
the  "  castle"  for  safety.  Persuaded  to  desist  from  this 
rash  act,  he  sat,  irresolute  and  trembling,  not  know- 
ing what  to  do.  At  length  the  tea  came.  The 
people  resolved  it  should  not  be  landed,  and  in  Decem- 
ber it  went  overboard,  tumbled  into  the  harbor  by  cit- 
izens disguised  as  Indians.  The  people  then  knew 
u  that  they  had  passed  the  river,  and  cut  away  the 
bridge. w  The  cold  and  dreary  storms  that  swept  over 
Boston  that  winter  were  but  a  feeble  emblem  of  the 


GAD    HITCHCOCK,  29 

tempests  of  feeling  and  indignation  that  raged  in  the 
hearts  of  the  inhabitants.  Spring  came,  but  the  popu- 
lar tempest  showed  no  abatement.  "  Don't  put  off  the 
boat,"  said  the  timid,  "  till  you  know  where  you  will 
land."  "We  must/' replied  the  bold,  "though  we 
dorit  know."  "  God  will  bring  us  into  a  safe  harbor," 
thundered  Hawley.  British  fleets  and  troops  were  on 
the  way  to  enforce  submission.  The  land  rocked  with 
excitement.  The  fearful  undulations  at  Boston  rolled 
southward  to  the  Carolinas.  Amid  such  fierce  com- 
motions within,  and  the  gathering  of  hostile  forces 
without,  the  House  of  Representatives  met  to  choose  a 
council  for  the  coming  year.  Gad  Hitchcock  was 
selected  to  preach  the  opening  sermon.  Fresh  from 
the  people,  whose  excitement  and  indignation  he 
shared,  he  arose  in  the  presence  of  the  hushed  assem- 
blage, and  lauched  full  on  the  bosom  of  the  astonished 
Governor,  "When  the  wicked  bear  rule,  the  people 
mourn."  Having  delivered  this  startling  message,  he 
did  not  follow  it  up  with  fierce  denunciations  like  the 
preachers  who  addressed  the  covenanters,  fleeing  from 
the  sword  of  Claverhouse.  He  was  not  addressing 
men  about  to  close  in  battle  with  their  foes,  but  a  dig- 
nified body  of  law-makers,  and  his  whole  sermon  was 
a  clear  and  masterly  exposition  of  government  properly 
organized  and  administered,  and  of  the  sufferings  of  the 
people  under  oppressive  rulers.  He  then  stated  boldly 
the  grievances  of  the  colonies,  and  the  cause  of  the  tur- 
bulent feeling  and  loud  complaints  that  filled  the  land. 
Making  each  point  tell  on  the  present  condition  of 
things,  he  wound  up  his  eloquent  discourse  in  the  fol- 


30  ELECTION     SERMONS. 

lowing  bold  and  startling  language,  u  Our  danger  is 
not  visionary  but  real  ;  our  contention  is  not  about 
trifles,  but  about  liberty  and  property,  and  not  ours 
only,  but  those  of  posterity  to  the  latest  generation. 
•::"     °  ;::'    If  I  am  mistaken  in  supposing  plans  arc 

formed  and  executing,  subversive  of  our  natural  and 
chartered  rights  and  privileges,  and  incompatible  with 
every  idea  of  liberty,  all  America  is  mistaken  ivith  me. 
Our  continued  complaints,  our  repeated  humble,  but 
fruitless,  unregarded  petitions  and  remonstrances,  and, 
if  I  may  be  allowed  the  sacred  allusion,  our  groanings 
that  can  not  be  uttered,  are  at  once  indications  of  our 
sufferings,  and  the  feeling  sense  we  have  of  them." 
Let  the  Governor  in  his  chair  of  state  hear  it,  we  not 
only  mourn,  but  with  groanings  that  can  not  be  uttered, 
and  all  because  the  xoicked  rule.  The  castle  can  not 
shelter  him  from  that  scorching  thunderbolt.  Fami- 
lies are  divided,  brother  is  arrayed  against  brother, 
friend  against  friend.  Society  is  cut  from  its  moor- 
ings, and  hate  and  consternation  reign  on  every  side, 
and  all  because  the  wicked  bear  rule.  King  George 
may  say  the  evils  that  produce  this  state  of  things  are 
imaginary,  but  I  tell  you,"  says  Gad  Hitchcock,  "and 
I  tell  the  tyrant  to  his  face,  it  is  because  the  wicked 
bear  rule." 

Such  sermons  had  something  to  do  with  the  Revo- 
lution  as  well  as  the  appointing  of  committees  and  tho 
drawing  up  of  resolutions. 


DR.     LAN  GD  0  N.  31 

[1775.] 

The  next  year,  Dr.  Langdon,  president  of  Harvard 
College,  was  appointed  to  deliver  the  election  sermon. 
The  contest  had  then  begun — blood  had  flowed  at  Lex- 
ington and  Concord,  and  only  three  weeks  before  the 
battle  of  Bunker  Hill  had  been  fought.  Boston  was  in 
possession  of  the  British,  and  the  Colonial  Congress 
assembled  at  Harvard.  There  was  no  election  of  coun- 
cillors, but  it  was  the  anniversary  of  the  day  fixed  by 
charter  for  the  election.  The  Congress  was  perplexed 
and  ignorant  what  course  to  adopt.  His  Majesty's 
Governor  was  not  there,  neither  would  they  elect  a 
Council  for  His  Majesty  ;  and  yet  Congress  had  taken 
no  decided  steps  toward  the  inauguration  of  an  inde- 
pendent government. 

Nevertheless  until  things  assumed  more  definite 
shape  they  would  fulfill,  as  far  as  they  were  concerned, 
the  conditions  of  the  Charter.  They  therefore  met  on 
the  appointed  day,  and  listened  to  a  sermon  from  the 
learned  Dr.  Langdon. 

He  took  for  his  text  Isaiah,  i.  26  :  "  And  I  will 
restore  thy  judges  as  at  the  first,  and  thy  counsel  as 
at  the  beginning.  Afterward  thou  shalt  be  called  the 
city  of  righteousness,  the  faithful  city/'  Nothing 
could  be  more  appropriate  than  this  text.  It  shows 
in  what  perfect  harmony  the  pulses  of  the  clergy  and 
the  people  beat.  The  latter  did  not  now  need  any 
instruction  as  to  their  rights,  or  appeals  to  assert  them. 
They  had  already  asserted  them  at  the  point  of  the 
biyonet.     The  die  was  cast,  and  every  one  asked  what 


32  ELECTION     SERMONS, 

would  the  end  be.  The  capital  was  in  the  hands  of 
the  brutal  soldiery,  and  the  patriots  were  driven  from 
their  homes  which  they  might  never  see  again.  In 
such  a  crisis,  in  such  a  state  of  feeling,  how  beautiful, 
how  appropriate  and  encouraging  is  this  full,  rich 
promise. 

He  commences  by  saying,  "  Shall  we  rejoice,  my 
fathers  and  brethren,  or  shall  we  weep  together  on  the 
return  of  this  anniversary,  which  from  the  first  settle- 
ment of  the  Colony  has  been  sacred  to  liberty,  to  per- 
petuate the  invaluable  privilege  of  choosing  from 
among  ourselves  wise  men  fearing  God  and  hating 
covetousness,  to  be  honorable  counsellors,  to  constitute 
an  essential  branch  of  that  happy  government  which 
was  established  in  the  faith  of  royal  charters  ?"  He 
then  compares  the  past  joyful  day  of  elections  with 
the  present  anniversary  when  the  capital  is  the  strong- 
hold of  despotism.  He  goes  over  the  successive  acts 
of  tyranny,  describes  the  murder  at  Lexington  and 
Concord,  the  slaying  of  women  and  infants,  and  en- 
forces the  necessity  of  repentance  and  the  laying  aside 
of  every  sin.  But,  after  recounting  all  the  disasters 
that  have  befallen  them,  and  the  sufferings  they  have 
endured,  he  turns  to  the  cheering  promise  of  the  text, 
and  says  the  past,  instead  of  disheartening,  should 
encourage  them.  "  Let  us  praise  God/'  he  exclaims, 
in  a  subdued  yet  noble  enthusiasm,  "  for  the  advan- 
tages already  given  us  over  the  enemies  of  liberty — 
particularly  that  they  have  been  so  dispirited  by  re- 
peated experience  of  the  efficacy  of  our  arms  in  the 
late  action  at  Chelsea,  when  several  hundred  of  our 


DR.     LANGDON.  33 

soldiery,  the  greater  part  open  to  the  fire  of  so  many 
cannon  swivels  and  musketry  from  a  battery  advan- 
tageously situated,  from  two  armed  cutters  full  of  ma- 
rines, and  from  ships  of  the  line  in  the  harbor,  not  one 
man  on  our  side  was  killed,  and  but  two  or  three 
wounded,  when  a  great  number  were  killed  and 
wounded  on  the  other  side,  and  one  of  the  cutters 
taken  and  burnt.  If  God  be  for  us,  who  can  be 
against  us  ?  The  enemy  has  reproached  us  for  calling 
on  his  name,  and  professing  our  trust  in  him.  They 
have  made  a  mock  of  our  solemn  fasts  and  every  ap- 
pearance of  Christianity  in  the  land.  On  this  account, 
by  way  of  contempt,  they  call  us  saints,  while  their 
mouths  are  full  of  cursing  and  bitterness.  And  may 
we  not  be  confident  that  the  Most  High  who  regards 
these  things  will  vindicate  his  own  honor,  and  plead 
our  righteous  cause  against  such  enemies  to  his  gov- 
ernment as  well  as  to  our  liberties.  0  may  our  camp 
be  free  from  every  accursed  thing.  May  we  be  truly 
a  holy  people,  and  all  our  towns  and  cities  of  right- 
eousness. Then  the  Lord  will  be  our  refuge  and 
strength,  a  very  present  help  in  time  of  trouble,  and 
we  shall  have  no  reason  to  be  afraid,  though  thousands 
of  our  enemies  set  themselves  against  us  round  about, 
though  all  nature  should  be  thrown  into  tumults  and 
convulsions.  He  can  command  the  stars  in  their 
courses  to  fight  his  battles,  and  all  the  elements  to 
wrage  war  with  his  enemies.  He  can  destroy  them 
with  innumerable  plagues,  and  send  faintness  into 
their  hearts,  so  that  the  men  of  might  shall  not  find 
their  hands.     May  the  Lord  hear  us  in  the  day  of 

2* 


34  ELECTION     SERMONS. 

trouble,  and  the  name  of  the  God  of  Jacob  defend  us, 
send  us  help  from  his  sanctuary,  and  strengthen  us 
out  of  Zion." 

Such  patriotic  sentiments  and  noble  encouragement 
by  the  venerated  head  of  Harvard  College,  published 
and  scattered  through  the  army  and  over  the  country, 
performed  a  mission  and  secured  results  which  have 
since  been  attributed  to  secondary  causes  only.  Much 
is  said  of  the  intelligence,  virtue,  and  submission  to 
law  which  characterized  our  Revolution,  while  those 
who  refer  to  it  with  so  much  pride  forget,  or  at  least 
fail  to  recognize,  the  fact  that  the  rebellion  in  New 
England  rested  on  the  pulpit  —  received  its  strongest 
impulse,  indeed  its  moral  character,  from  it.  The 
people  were  intelligent  and  moral,  says  the  historian  ; 
but  how  came  they  so  ?  Under  what  system  of  in- 
struction, or  by  whose  teachings  was  this  state  of 
things  brought  about  ?  It  is  not  sufficient  that  he 
should  state  the  fact,  he  should  give  also  the  causes 
that  produced  it.  It  is  not  enough  to  point  out  to 
us  the  phenomenon,  we  want  it  explained. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Election  Sermons,  preached  after  the  Assembling  of  the  Continental 
Congress  and  Organization  of  Colonial  Government. — Hew  Wm.  Gor- 
don.— Rev.  Samuel  West,  of  Dartmouth,  in  1776.— Cold   Appeal. 

The  first  election  sermon,  preached  after  the  decla- 
ration of  independence,  shows  clearly  that  the  clergy 
kept  pari  passu  with  the  civil  authorities  in  their 
steady  advance  to  a  complete  separation  of  the  Colo- 
nies from  the  mother  country  ;  nay,  rather  with  the 
people,  who  were  constantly  urging  their  representa- 
tives to  more  decided  action.  Two  weeks  after  the 
bell  at  Independence  Hall,  in  Philadelphia,  rung  out 
to  a  breathless  multitude  in  the  streets  below,  and 
over  the  excited  land,  "  Proclaim  liberty  throughout 
all  the  land  to  all  the  inhabitants  thereof/'  the  Massa- 
chusetts House  of  Eepresentatives  assembled,  by  ordi- 
nance of  the  Continental  Congress,  to  elect  the  annua) 
councillors,  and  Wm.  Gordon,  of  the  Third  Church  of 
Roxbury,  was  called  upon  to  preach  the  sermon. 
Acting  no  longer  under  the  royal  charter,  but  under 
the  higher  authority  of  the  Continental  Congress,  the 
delegates  assembled  to  elect  those  who  should  recog- 
nize the  new,  self-constituted  government,  and  yield 
obedience  to  it  alone.  It  wTas  a  position  well  calcu- 
lated to  alarm  the  timid,  and  fill  all  with  the  most 
serious  reflections.  Previous  to  entering  on  their 
duties,  they  wished  to  hear  what  the  servant  of  Cod 


36  ELECTION     SERMONS. 

had  to  say.  They  had  heard  from  the  Continental 
Congress,  and  before  proceeding  further  it  became 
them  to  listen  to  a  message  from  the  Lord  of  Hosts. 
Mr.  Gordon  took  his  text  from  Jeremiah,  xxx.  20,  21  : 
u  Their  children  shall  be  as  aforetime,  and  their  con- 
gregation shall  be  established  before  me,  and  I  will 
punish  all  that  would  oppress  them.  And  their  nobles 
>shall  be  of  themselves/'  After  quoting  thus  far,  he 
paused  for  a  moment,  and  then  added,  in  an  altered 
tone,  "  The  sentence  is  not  perfected  without  the  addi- 
tion of  i  and  the  government  shall  proceed  from  the 
midst  of  them,*  but  the  wisdom  of  the  Continental 
Congress,  in  which  we  cheerfully  confide,  has  restrained 
me  from  making  it  a  part  of  the  text.  In  an  abler 
hand,  at  some  fitter  time,  it  may  of  itself  alone  suffice 
for  a  complete  text.  Amen,  so  let  it  be"  It  is  clear 
at  the  outset  where  he  stands.  He  has  no  hesitation, 
no  misgivings,  no  fears,  but  is  willing  to  make  a  clean 
sweep,  and  take  the  whole  text,  and  apply  it  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord.  He  chooses,  however,  to  occupy 
the  high  position  maintained  by  the  clergy  all  over  the 
land,  and  which  conduced  so  much  to  the  regard  for 
law  and  authority,  which  was  exhibited  in  such  a 
marvellous  degree  in  the  midst  of  revolution — viz.  : 
supporters  of  the  civil  authority,  instead  of  inde- 
pendent leaders.  The  sentence,  however,  contains 
jnoro  than  a  peaceful  recognition  of  the  authority  of 
the  Continental  Congress,  it  embodies  a  prophecy,  and 
significantly  hints  at  the  near  approach  of  the  day 
when  another  will  preach  in  the  presence  of  a  governor 
phoeeii  "froii}   the  midst  of  them,"  and  the  "Amen, 


REV.     WM.     GORDON.  37 

so  let  it  be"  reveals  the  deep  enthusiasm  of  his 
patriotic  heart,  and  at  the  same  time  exhibits  the 
prophet-like  boldness  of  his  spirit.  After  giving  that 
portion  of  the  history  of  the  Jewish  nation,  to  which 
this  text  applied,  and  drawing  a  parallel  between  it 
and  that  of  the  Colonies,  and  showing  how  repentance 
for  sin  was  indispensable  to  the  result  foretold  in  the 
prophecy,  and  stating  that  the  same  was  necessary  now 
to  obtain  like  results,  he  says,  "  A  man  of  timid  make 
and  little  faith,  no  ways  conversant  with  or  forgetful 
of  historical  facts,  may  be  apprehensive  that,  though 
our  assembly  is  gathered,  and  we  are  about  to  have 
our  nobles  of  ourselves,  this  government  will  not  be 
established,  and  the  present  appearances  are  only  like 
those  sudden  revivals  that  frequently  precede  the  total 
extinction  of  life.  He  may  tremble  at  the  thought  of 
the  power,  with  whom  we  are  to  contend.  He  may  be 
terrified  with  the  notion  that  sooner  or  later  we  must 
fall  before  it."  *  P  9  *  % 

Proceeding  in  this  strain,  he  says,  "  If  the  cause  of 
the  ministry  was  the  cause  of  the  united  nation,  were 
not  England  in  debt,  a  millstone  of  £30,000,000  hang- 
ing round  her  neck — did  the  policy  of  France  and 
Spain  coincide  with  England,  and  were  there  no  wide 
Atlantic  separating  us — had  we  no  officers  of  merit — 
had  the  Colonies  been  less  united  and  zealous — had 
not  the  individuals  of  the  Continental  Congress,  re- 
gardless of  threats  and  wrath  like  the  roaring  of  lions, 
boldly  ventured  to  engage  in  maintaining  our  common 
rights  upon  forming  and  supporting  a  continental 
army,  and  in  appointing  able  generals  to  command  it, 


38  ELECTION     SERMONS. 

in  whom  we  can  confide  and  do  rejoice — had  they  not 
adopted  those  measures  which  will  expose  them  to 
suffer  as  rebels  unless  success  prevents  them  :  then  we 
might  have  a  fearful  looking  for  of  fiery  trials  of  a 
long  continuance,  and  might  have  felt  great  discour- 
agement. But  wrhen,  besides  the  favorable  circum- 
stances already  hinted  at,  we  reflect  upon  the  military 
spirit  that  the  Lord  of  Hosts  hath  providentially  dif- 
fused through  the  continent,  and  that  God  has  won- 
derfully  appeared  for  us,  crowning  our  military  opera- 
tions with  unusual  success,  and  disconcerting  those 
of  the  enemy  —  that  the  British  troops,  instead  of 
ranging  at  large  without  opposition  and  driving  the 
country  before  them,  and  being  at  liberty  to  riot  on  the 
fat  of  the  land,  and  to  gratify  their  brutal  lusts  upon 
our  wives  and  daughters,  are  confined  within  narrow 
limits  by  those  whom  they  have  been  taught  to  con- 
sider as  infamous  cowards — that  our  people,  who  have 
suffered  the  most,  and  been  reduced  to  hardships  before 
unknown,  have  been  strangely  preserved  from  fainting 
and  dejection,  as  though  by  the  special  interposition 
of  heaven,  *  °  *  when  we  further  reflect  upon  the 
importance  and  goodness  of  our  cause,  and  that  on  the 
side  of  the  administration  have  been  all  manner  of 
lies,  deceit  and  wicked  cunning,  corruption,  profane- 
ness,  and  blasphemy,  we  are  justified  in  hoping  that 
the  proceedings  of  this  day,  instead  of  being  the  last 
of  the  kind,  will  prove  the  renewal  of  our  constitu- 
tional privileges,  and  that  this  mode  of  government 
will  be  established  before  the  Lord.  We  should  cer- 
tainly rebel  against  the  Sovereign  of  the  Universe  i^ 


REV.     W  M .     GORDON.  39 

iiis  providential  dispensation,  and  reject  the  divine 
council  communicated  to  us  by  that  medium,  did  we 
not  resolve  to  persist  in  our  present  opposition  to  the 
wicked  designs  of  an  arbitrary  ministry." 

The  whole  sermon  is  a  clear,  logical,  and  patriotic 
appeal  to  the  House,  and  he  winds  up  with  this  bold, 
direct  declaration  ;  as  though  he  were  a  judge  address- 
ing a  jury  on  a  question  of  law,  instead  of  a  clergyman 
exhorting  his  hearers  to  righteousness.  "  No  member 
can  consistently  take  his  place,  or  sit  in  the  House  of 
Assembly,  who  hesitates  about  setting  up  government, 
seeing  Congress  has  advised  to  it,  and  he  that  does  not 
mean  to  bear  a  part  in  the  public  burdens  of  the  day, 
but  to  escape  wholly  unhurt  in  person  and  property, 
is  no  patriot."  Enlarging  on  the  duty  of  each  one  to 
help  in  the  common  cause,  and  put  his  hands  to  the 
work,  he  concludes  :  "  May  heaven  influence  every 
one  of  us  to  contribute  our  best  abilities,  according  to 
our  several  stations  and  relations,  to  the  defense  and 
support  of  the  common  weal.     Amen/' 

It  requires  no  vivid  imagination  to  conceive  the 
effect  of  such  declarations  and  sentiments  as  these  on 
a  people  who  regarded  the  minister  as  the  oracle  of 
God,  speaking  not  merely  with  the  lofty  determination 
and  courage  of  a  patriot,  but  fortifying  his  utterance 
with,  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts  "  Follow  such 
a  sermon  as  this,  published  by  authority  of  the  Pro- 
vincial Congress,  as  it  goes  into  every  parish  of  the 
Colony,  and  is  read  by  the  pastor  and  the  leading  men 
of  his  congregation,  and  you  will  cease  to  wonder  that 
the  soldiers  drawn  from  those  parishes  should  be  law- 


40  ELECTION     SERMONS. 

abiding  and  not  given  to  excesses  in  the  midst  of 
revolution.  Patriotism  is  grafted  on  religion,  and 
while,  in  obedience  to  the  former,  they  strike  for  free- 
dom, they  do  it  as  God-fearing  men.  Their  duty  to 
their  country  and  to  their  Maker  is  so  blended  that 
they  can  not  be  separated  ;  hence  their  patriotism  be- 
comes tinctured  with  religion,  while  their  religion  em- 
braces patriotism  in  its  circle  of  obligations.  With  the 
Israelite  to  serve  his  country  was  to  serve  his  God.  The 
same  doctrine  was  taught  everywhere  throughout  the 
New  England  Colonies,  and  accepted  as  truth.  Resis- 
tance to  oppressive  laws  and  edicts  was  not  merely  the 
act  of  independent  freemen  struggling  for  their  rights, 
but  obedience  to  the  high  mandates  of  heaven. 

[1776.] 

In  1776,  the  attitude  of  the  Colonies  had  become 
fixed.  A  separate  government  had  been  organized  in 
them  all,  and  hence  there  was  no  longer  any  need  to 
discuss  the  general  principles  of  government,  and  edu- 
cate the  people  into  the  belief  that  resistance  to  op- 
pression  was  a  duty.  The  great  object  now  was  to 
convince  all  that  the  new  government  wras  legal,  and 
ought  to  be  obeyed.  The  right  to  resist  tyranny,  and 
struggle  against  the  attempt  to  enforce  decrees  and 
laws  that  would  reduce  them  to  slavery,  had  been 
proved,  until  all  believed  in  a  redress  of  grievances  ; 
but  the  transfer  of  allegiance  from  a  sovereign  that 
had  long  been  acknowledged,  to  a  throne  or  king  as  it 
were  of  their  own  creation  was  an  entirely  different 
matter.      Besides,  a  few  years  since   the  very  clergy 


REV.    SAMUEL     WEST.  41 

who  now  gave  in  their  adherence  to  the  new  govern- 
ment, and  exhorted  the  people  to  follow  their  example, 
had  preached  the  same  duty  of  submission  to  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  mother  country  and  to  the  rulers  she 
appointed  over  them.  It  was  not  so  easy  to  take  the 
very  same  texts  by  which  they  then  urged  obedience 
to  the  king,  and  prove  by  them  that  they  no  longer 
owed  it,  nay,  that  the  divine  authority  that  enforced  it 
then,  now  demanded  its  transfer.  The  clergy  felt  this 
difficulty,  but  they  grappled  with  it  boldly.  Toryism 
was  the  great  evil  to  be  eradicated  ;  and  hence  to  prove 
not  merely  the  right,  but  the  solemn  duty  to  renounce 
forever  all  allegiance  to  the  English  throne,  was  the 
first  great  step  towards  success. 

It  was  for  this  purpose  Samuel  West,  of  Dartmouth, 
in  the  election  sermon  of  1776,  took  for  his  text  the 
first  verse  of  the  3d  chapter  of  Titus,  "  Put  them  in 
mind  to  be  subject  to  principalities  and  powers,  to 
obey  magistrates,  to  be  ready  to  every  good  work/'' 
He  commenced  by  enunciating  this  great  principle, 
"  The  great  Creator,  having  designed  the  human  race 
for  society,  has  made  us  dependent  on  one  another  for 
happiness  —  he  has  so  constituted  us  that  it  becomes 
both  our  interest  and  duty  to  seek  the  public  good/' 
He  showed  that  the  development  of  the  social  affec- 
tions, the  action  of  the  benevolent  principle  implanted 
in  our  natures,  and  the  moral  faculties  given  us  to  dis- 
cern the  difference  between  good  and  evil,  right  and 
wrong,  all  proved  the  necessity  of  a  civil  government. 
As  a  consequence,  obedience  to  it  was  obligatory  on 
all.     But  the  same  good  will  to  others  and  desire  for 


42  ELECTION     SERMONS. 

justice,  which  make  us  acquiesce  in  civil  government, 
would  oblige  us  equally  to  resist  tyranny  which  cares 
neither  for  the  happiness  nor  right  of  the  subject ;  for, 
said  he,  "  tyranny  and  magistracy  arc  so  opposed  to 
each  other  that  where  one  begins  the  other  ends." 
After  enlarging  with  great  clearness  and  force  on  these 
propositions,  he  applied  the  subject  to  the  controversy 
between  the  two  countries.  u  Tyranny  and  arbitrary 
power/' he  says,  "are  utterly  inconsistent  with  and 
subversive  of  the  very  design  of  civil  government,  and 
all  political  law,  consequently  the  authority  of  a 
tyrant,  is  null  and  void/'  He  declared  that  God  never 
gave  any  man  the  right  to  trample  on  the  liberty  of 
his  creatures,  and  "  no  number  of  men  can  confer  a 
right  they  do  not  possess,  viz.,  to  take  away  liberty." 
After  proving  conclusively,  "that  representation  and 
taxation  are  inseparably  connected/'  he  adds,  "  and 
when  great  numbers  emigrate  to  a  foreign  land,  so 
that  they  can  not  properly  be  represented  at  home, 
they  have  a  right  to  legislate  for  themselves/'  He 
thus  goes  on,  step  by  step,  and  proceeds  to  show  that 
the  Colonies  have  acted  not  only  in  strict  accordance 
With  the  Divine  purpose,  in  organizing  civil  govern- 
ment, but  with  the  principles  of  justice  and  common 
sense.  Having  thus  cleared  every  thing  from  his  path, 
as  he  advanced  in  his  argument,  he  closed  it  by  boldly 
declaring  that  "  any  people,  when  cruelly  oppressed, 
had  a  right  to  throw  off  the  yoke,  and  be  fraei"  He 
proved  this  from  the  history  of  the  Israelites,  quoting 
the  commands  of  God  to  break  the  bonds  of  oppression, 
and  showed  that  no  people  ever  had  a  clearer  right  to 


REV.     SAMUEL     WEST.  43 

rebel  from  this  cause  than  ourselves.  Acting  on  it,  he 
said,  "  we  have  made  our  appeal  to  heaven,  and  we 
can  not  doubt  that  the  judge  of  all  the  earth  will  do 
right/'  Having  clearly  proved  that  the  duty  of  alle- 
giance ends  where  tyranny  begins,  he  passes  from  the 
discussion  of  the  principle,  to  the  enumeration  of  those 
acts  of  the  British  government  which  demonstrate  its 
tyrannical  character.  After  speaking  of  its  violation 
of  charter  rights  and  enactment  of  oppressive  laws,  he 
says,  "  Need  I,  upon  this  occasion,  descend  to  particu- 
lars ?  Can  any  one  be  ignorant  what  the  things  are 
of  which  we  complain  ?  Does  not  every  one  know 
that  the  King  and  Parliament  have  assumed  to  tax  us 
without  our  consent  ?  And  can  any  one  be  so  lost  to 
principles  of  humanity  and  common  sense  as  not  to 
view  their  conduct  in  the  affair  as  a  very  grievous  impo- 
sition ?  Reason  and  equity  require  that  no  one  be  obliged 
to  pay  the  tax  that  he  has  never  consented  to.  °  °  ° 
Can  any  one  suppose  it  to  be  reasonable  that  a  set  of 
men,  that  are  perfect  strangers  to  us,  should  have  the 
uncontrollable  right  to  lay  the  most  heavy  and  griev- 
ous burdens  upon  us,  if  they  please,  purely  to  gratify 
their  unbounded  avarice  and  luxury  ?  Must  we  be 
obliged  to  perish  with  cold  and  hunger  to  maintain 
them  in  idleness,  in  all  kinds  of  debauchery  and  dissi- 
pation? But,  if  they  have  the  right  to  take  our  prop- 
erty from  us  without  our  consent,  we  must  be  wholly 
at  their  mercy  fjr  food  and  raiment,  and  we  know,  by 
sad  experience,  that  their  tender  mercies  are  cruel. 
But,  because  we  are  not  willing  to  submit  to  such  an 
unrighteous  and   cruel   decree,   though    we   modestly 


44  ELECTION-   SERMONS. 

complained,  and  humbly  petitioned  for  a  redress  of 
grievances,  instead  of  hearing  our  complaints,  and 
granting  our  requests,  they  have  gone  on  to  add  ini- 
quity to  transgression,  by  making  several  cruel  and 
unrighteous  acts.  Who  can  forget  the  cruel  act  to 
block  up  the  harbor  of  Boston,  whereby  thousands  of 
innocent  persons  must  have  been  inevitably  ruined  had 
they  not  been  supported  by  the  continent  ?  Who  can 
forget  the  act  for  vacating  the  charter  altogether,  with 
many  other  cruel  acts,  which  it  is  needless  to  mention? 
But,  not  being  able  to  accomplish  their  wicked  pur- 
pose by  mere  acts  of  Parliament,  they  have  proceeded 
to  commence  hostilities  against  us,  and  have  endeav- 
ored to  destroy  us  by  fire  and  sword — our  towns  they 
have  burned,  our  brethren  they  have  slain,  our  vessels 
they  have  taken,  and  our  goods  they  have  spoiled. 
And  after  all  this  wanton  exertion  of  arbitrary  power 
is  there  the  man,  that  has  any  of  the  feelings  of 
humanity  left,  who  is  not  fired  with  a  noble  indigna- 
tion against  such  merciless  tyrants,  who  have  not  only 
brought  upon  us  all  the  horrors  of  civil  war,  but  have 
also  added  a  piece  of  barbarity  unknown  to  Turks  and 
Mahommedan  infidels  ;  yea,  such  as  would  be  abhorred 
and  detested  by  the  savages  of  the  wilderness.  I  mean 
their  cruelly  forcing  our  brethren,  whom  they  have 
taken  prisoners,  without  any  distinction  of  whig  or 
tory,  to  serve  on  board  their  ships  of  war,  thereby 
obliging  them  to  fight  against  their  brethren,  their 
wives  and  children,  and  to  assist  in  plundering  their 
own  estates.  This,  my  brethren,  is  done  by  men,  who 
call   themselves    Christians,    against    their    Christian 


REV.     SAMUEL    WEST.  45 

brethren — against  men  who  till  now  gloried  in  the 
name  of  Englishmen,  and  who  were  ever  ready  to 
spend  their  lives  and  fortunes  in  the  defence  of  British 
rights.  Tell  it  not  in  Gath,  publish  it  not  in  the 
streets  of  Askalon,  lest  it  cause  our  enemies  to  rejoice, 
and  our  adversaries  to  triumph.  It  is  an  indispensable 
duty,  my  brethren,  which  we  owe  to.  God  and  our 
country,  to  rouse  up  and  bestir  ourselves ;  and  being 
animated  with  a  noble  zeal  for  the  sacred  cause  of  lib- 
erty, to  defend  our  lives  and  fortunes  to  the  shedding 
of  the  last  drop  of  blood.  The  love  of  our  country, 
the  tender  affection  that  we  have  for  our  wives  and 
children,  and  the  regard  that  we  ought  to  have  for  un- 
born posterity — yea,  every  thing  that  is  dear  and 
sacred — do  now  loudly  call  on  us  to  use  our  best  en- 
deavors to  save  our  country.  We  must  turn  our  plow- 
shares into  swords,  and  our  pruning-hooks  into  spears, 
and  learn  the  art  of  self-defence  against  our  enemies. 
To  be  careless  and  remiss,  or  to  neglect  the  cause  of 
our  country  through  the  base  motives  of  avarice  or 
self-interest,  will  expose  us,  not  only  to  the  resent- 
ments of  our  fellow-creatures,  but  to  the  displeasure 
of  God  Almighty.  For  to  such  base  wretches,  in  such 
a  time  as  this,  we  may  apply,  with  the  utmost  pro- 
priety, the  passage  in  Jer.  xlviii.  10:  '  Cursed  be  he 
that  doeth  the  work  of  the  Lord  deceitfully,  and 
cursed  be  he  that  keepeth  back  his  sword  from  blood.' 
To  save  our  country  from  the  hands  of  our  oppressors 
ought  to  be  dearer  to  us  than  our  lives,  and  next  the 
eternal  salvation  of  our  souls,  the  thing  of  greatest 
importance — a  duty  so  sacred  that  it  can  not  be  dis- 


46  ELECTION     SERMONS. 

pcnscd  with  for  the  Bake  of  our  secular  .concerns. 
Doubtless  for  this  reason  God  has  manifested  his  anger 
against  those  who  have  refused  to  assist  their  country 
against  its  cruel  oppressors.  Hence,  in  a  case  similar 
to  our  own,  when  the  Israelites  were  stru^lins:  to  de- 
liver  themselves  from  the  tyranny  of  Jabin,  the  King 
of  Canaan,  we  find  a  most  bitter  curse  denounced 
against  those  who  refused  to  grant  their  assistance  in 
the  common  cause.  Vide  Judges,  v.  23:  '  Curse  ye 
Meroz  (said  the  angel  of  the  Lord),  curse  ye  bitterly 
the  inhabitants  thereof,  because  they  came  not  up  to 
the  help  of  the  Lord,  to  the  help  of  the  Lord  against 
the  mighty/  Now,  if  such  a  bitter  curse  is  denounced 
against  those  who  refused  to  assist  their  country 
against  oppressors,  what  a  dreadful  doom  are  those 
exposed  to,  who  have  not  only  refused  to  assist  their 
country  in  this  time  of  distress,  but  have,  through 
motives  of  interest  or  ambition,  shown  themselves  ene- 
mies to  their  country,  by  opposing  us  in  the  measures 
we  have  taken,  and  by  openly  favoring  the  British 
Parliament.  He,  that  is  so  lost  to  humanity  as  to  be 
willing  to  sacrifice  his  country  for  the  sake  of  avarice 
or  ambition,  has  arrived  at  the  highest  stage  of  wick- 
edness that  human  nature  is  capable  of,  and  deserves  a 
much  worse  name  than  I  at  present  care  to  give  him; 
but  I  think  1  may  with  propriety  say  that  such  a  per- 
son has  forfeited  his  rigid  to  human  society,  and  that 
he  ought  to  take  up  his  abode,  not  among  the  savage 
vunu  but  among  the  savage  beasts  of  the  icildtrness.'1 
The  calm  opening  of  this  discourse,  the  careful,  argu- 
mentative manner,  in  which  he  attempted  to  justify 


REV.    SAMUEL     WEST.  47 

the  course  of  the  Colonies  in  asserting  their  indepen- 
dence, and  to  prove  that  it  was  the  duty  of  every  one  to 
yield  obedience  to  their  authority,  gave  no  forewarning 
of  this  terrible  peroration.  By  slow  steps,  but  gath- 
ering impetus  and  power,  as  he  moved  on  in  the  path 
of  his  great  argument,  he  at  last  turned  in  fierce  wrath 
on  the  enemies  of  his  country  ;  and,  prophet-like, 
hurled  the  vengeance  of  God  against  all  who,  in  this 
hour  of  trial  and  gloom,  stood  aloof  from  its  holy 
cause.  The  very  slowness  with  which  the  storm  had 
gathered  made  its  bursting  the  more  terrible,  and 
the  excited  accents  of  the  indignant  minister  of  God 
rolled  like  angry  thunder  over  the  silent,  breathless 
assembly.  Its  retiring  murmurs  left  every  soul  se- 
rious and  solemn  ;  and  a  sense  of  greatly  added  re- 
sponsibility rested  on  all,  as,  with  a  changed  voice 
and  countenance,  he  closed  the  sacred  volume,  say- 
ing, "  Let  us  look  upon  freedom  from  the  power  of 
tyrants  as  a  blessing  that  can  not  be  purchased  too 
dear,  and  let  us  bless  God  that  he  has  so  far  delivered 
us  from  the  idolatrous  reverence  which  men  are  so  apt 
to  pay  to  arbitrary  tyrants,  and  let  us  pray  that  he 
would  be  pleased  graciously  to  perfect  the  mercy  he 
has  begun  to  show  us,  by  confounding  the  devices  of 
our  enemies,  and  bringing  their  counsels  to  naught, 
and  by  establishing  our  just  rights  and  privileges  upon 
such  a  firm  and  lasting  basis  that  the  powers  of  earth 
and  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it." 

This  sermon  rung  like  a  trumpet-call  through  the 
Colony,  strengthening  wavering  hearts,  and  giving  re- 
newed boldness  and  fervor  to  the  clergy  every  where. 


CHAPTER     IV. 

Sermons  dttrino  the  "War.— Sermon  of  Samuel  Webster,  in  1777.— Bold 
and  patriotic  prayer.— discourse  of  pliilip  patson,  of  olielsea,  1773. — 
Eloquent  Appeal.— PuoniETic  Vision. 

I  shall  give  but  two  more  of  theso  election  ser- 
mons, delivered  at  the  center  of  influence  in  the  New 
England  Colonies,  as  illustrations  of  the  spirit  that 
animated  the  clergy  as  the  war  progressed,  and  to  show 
that,  as  Aaron  and  Hur  upheld  the  hands  of  Moses 
when  Joshua  smote  the  Amalekites,  so  they  strength- 
ened and  stayed  up  the  hands  of  the  civil  power 
through  the  long  struggle  of  the  Revolution.  In  the 
spring  of  1777,  after  the  successive  disasters  that  had 
overtaken  the  American  army  —  the  defeat  on  Long 
Island,  the  fall  of  New  York  and  Fort  Washington, 
and  the  flight  of  Washington  and  his  disorganized  army 
through  the  Jerseys  —  a  year  wrapped  in  gloom  and 
fraught  with  sad  forebodings,  with  only  one  gleam  of 
sunshine — the  battle  of  Princeton — to  cheer  the  des- 
ponding hearts  of  the  patriots,  we  find  Samuel  Web- 
ster preaching  the  election  sermon  before  the  House  of 
Representatives,  from  Ezekiel,  45th  chapter,  part  of  8th 
and  9th  verses  :  "My  princes  shall  no  more  oppress  my 
people,  and  the  rest  of  the  land  shall  they  give  to  the 
house  of  Israel,  according  to  their  tribes.  Thus  saith 
the  Lord  God.  Let  it  suffice  you,  0  princes  of  Israel, 
remove  violence  and  spoil,  and  execute  judgment  and 


REV.     SAMUEL     WEBSTER.  49 

justice,  and  take  away  your  exactions  from  my  people, 
saith  the  Lord  God." 

He  commenced  his  discourse  by  congratulating  them 
on  the  delivery  of  Boston  from  the  hands  of  the 
British.  He  then  enlarged  on  the  duty  of  princes  and 
rulers,  but,  ignoring  those  which  the  mother  country 
wishes  to  fasten  on  them,  addresses  those  appointed  by 
the  people,  and  says  :  "As  to  old-fashioned  rulers,  hack- 
neyed to  the  ways  of  the  world,  the  voice  from  heaven 
cries  to  them  to  oppress  no  more.  It  cries  most  sol- 
emnly in  my  text.  But,  as  such  rulers  hear  neither  God 
nor  man,  we  have  no  immediate  business  with  them. 
And  God  grant  toe  never  may!'  The  sermon  is  full  of 
biting  sarcasm  on  the  British  government,  and  solemn 
appeals  to  the  representatives  of  the  people  to  be 
true  to  their  trust,  telling  them  however  that,  not- 
withstanding their  best  endeavors,  they  will  all  be  in 
vain,  unless  they  depend  on  something  besides  an  arm 
of  flesh — that  their  great  reliance  must  be  on  the  Lord 
of  Hosts,  who  was  always  able  to  deliver  Israel  in  the 
most  discouraging  circumstances,  and  will  deliver  their 
country  from  its  oppressors  if  the  people  call  upon  him 
in  truth  : — he  closed  with  this  remarkable  prayer  : 
"Awake,  0  Lord,  for  our  help,  and  come  and  save  us. 
Awake,  0  Lord,  as  in  ancient  times.  Do  ivith  them, 
0  Lord,  if  it  be  thy  will,  as  thou  didst  unto  the  Midi- 
anites  and  their  confederates,  and  to  Sisera,  and  to 
Jabin,  rohen  they  unjustly  and  without  provocation 
invaded  thy  people,  and  make  their  lords,  and  rtobles, 
and  great  commanders  like  Oreb  and  Zeeb,  and  like 
Zeba  and  Zalmunna.     Though  these  angry  brethren 

3 


50  SERMONS     DURING    THE     WAR. 

profess  to  worship  the  same  God  with  us,  yet  because 
it  is  in  somewhat  different  mode  they  seem  to  have 
said,  come  let  us  take  the  houses  of  God  in  possession. 
Accordingly  they  have  vented  a  peculiar  spitz  eigainst 
the  houses  of  God,  defaced  and  defiled  thy  holy  and 
beautiful  sanctuaries  ivhcre  our  fathers  icorshiped 
thee,  turning  them  into  houses  of  merchandise  and  re- 
ceptacles  of  beasts,  and  some  of  them  they  hetve  torn 
in  pieces  and  burned  iciih  frc.  Therefore  ice  humbly 
pray  that  thou  ivilt  hedge  up  their  way,  and  not  suffer 
them  to  proceed  and  prosper.  But  put  them  to  flight 
speedily,  if  it  be  thine  holy  will,  and  maize  them  run 
fast  as  a  ivhcel  downivard,  or  as  fast  as  stubble  and 
chaff  is  driven  before  the  furious  whirlwind.  As  the 
fire  consumes  the  wood,  and  sometimes  lays  ivaste 
ivholc  forests  on  the  mountains,  so  let  them  be  laid 
ivaste  and  consumed  if  they  obstinately  persist  in  their 
bloody  designs  against  us.  Lord,  raise  a  dreadful 
tempest  and  affright  them,  and  let  thy  tremendous 
storms  maize  them  quake  with  fear,  and  pursue  them 
ivith  thine  arrow,  till  they  are  brought  to  see  that  God 
is  with  us  of  a  truth,  and  fight  eth  for  us,  and  so  return 
to  their  own  lands,  covered  tuith  shame  and  confusion, 
and  humble  themselves  before  thee,  and  seek  to  appease 
thine  anger  by  a  bitter  repentance  for  their  murderous 
designs.  And  let  them  have  neither  credit  nor  courage 
to  come  out  any  more  against  us.  That  so  all  nations, 
seeing  thy  mighty  power  and  thy  marvellous  works, 
may  no  more  call  themselves  supreme,  but  know  and 
acknowledge  that  thou  art  God  alone,  the  only  supreme 
Governor  among  men,  doing  whatsoever plcaseth  thee. 


KEV.    PHILIP     PAYSON.  51 

And  so  let  thy  glorious  name  be  magnified  in  all  the 
earth,  till  time  shall  be  no  more.  And  let  all  the  people 
say  Amen  and  Amen." 

[1778.] 

As  the  clergy  performed  the  most  active  and  im- 
portant part  in  the  education  of  the  people  of  New 
England  for  the  Revolution,  as  well  as  strengthened 
and  encouraged  them  in  the  darkest  hours,  by  patriotic 
exhortations  and  promises  of  final  deliverance,  and 
heaven's  richest  blessings  on  them  and  their  posterity, 
for  their  noble  endeavors  and  heroic  sacrifices  ;  so  they 
rejoiced  with  them  in  every  success,  and  declared  it  to 
be  the  sign  of  God's  blessing  and  the  precursor  of  a 
glorious  morning  at  hand.  Thus,  in  1778,  at  the 
turning  point  of  the  struggle,  directly  after  Burgoyne's 
overthrow,  and  while  the  land  was  still  rocking  to  the 
enthusiastic  rejoicings  of  the  people,  who  believed  they 
saw  in  it  the  first  gleam  of  the  coming  dawn,  Philip 
Paysqn,  of  Chelsea,  in  his  sermon  before  the  House  of 
Eepresentatives,  gave  utterance  to  the  universal  feel- 
ing. He  took  for  his  text  Galatians,  iv.  26,  27 : 
"  But  Jerusalem,  which  is  above,  is  free,  which  is  the 
mother  of  us  all.  For  it  is  written,  Rejoice  thou 
barren  that  bearest  not,  break  forth,  and  cry  thou  that 
travaillest  not,  for  the  desolate  hath  many  more  chil- 
dren than  she  which  hath  a  husband. " 

Like  all  those  who  preached  on  these  anniversaries, 
the  main  body  of  the  discourse  was  adapted  to  meet 
the  character  and  duties  of  the  audience  of  rulers  be- 
fore him.     He  spoke  of  the  blessings  of  liberty,  called 


SI  REV.    PHILIP     r  A  Y  S  O  N  . 

their  attention  to  the  different  forms  of  government 
adapted  to  different  states  of  society,  as  Greece  and 
Home,  showed  that  the  great  requisites  of  a  stable 
government  were  education,  religion,  and  patriotism, 
as  well  as  courage,  military  discipline,  and  union  ;  and 
then  passed  to  the  description  of  just  rulers,  their  high 
vocation  and  responsibility,  and  pointed  out  their  sol- 
emn duties,  and  said,  "  When  these  are  the  character- 
istics of  our  country  we  shall  be  like  the  Jerusalem 
above." 

Fired  with  the  contemplation,  and  rising  with  his 
theme,  he  suddenly  exclaims  :  "  Indulgent  heaven 
seems  to  invite  and  urge  us  to  accept  the  blessing.  A 
kind  and  wonderful  Providence  has  conducted  us,  by 
astonishing  steps,  as  it  were,  within  sight  of  the  prom- 
ised land.  We  stand  this  day  upon  Pisgah's  top,  the 
children  of  the  free  woman,  the  descendants  of  a  pious 
race,  who,  from  the  love  of  liberty  and  the  fear  of  God, 
spent  their  treasure  and  spilt  their  blood.  Animated 
by  the  same  great  spirit  of  liberty,  and  determined, 
under  God,  to  be  free,  these  states  have  made  one  of 
the  noblest  stands  against  despotism  and  tyranny  that 
can  be  met  with  in  the  annals  of  history,  ancient  or 
modern.  One  common  cause,  one  common  danger,  and 
one  common  interest,  have  united  us  to  the  most  vig- 
orous exertions.  We  have  been  all  along  the  scorn 
and  derision  of  our  enemies — but  the  care  of  heaven, 
and  the  charge  of  God.  And  hence  our  cause  and 
union,  like  the  rising  sun,  have  shone  brighter  and 
brighter  Thanks  be  to  God  !  we  this  day  behold,  in 
the  fullness  of  our  spirit,  the  great  object  of  our  wishes, 


REV.    PHILIP     PAYSON.  53 

of  our  toils  and  wars,  brightening  in  our  view.  The 
battles  we  have  already  fought,  and  the  victories  we 
have  won  (vid.  Saratoga),  the  pride  of  tyranny  that 
must  needs  have  been  humbled,  mark  the  characters 
of  the  freemen  of  America  with  distinguished  honor, 
and  will  be  read  with  astonishment  by  generations  yet 
unborn." 

He  continued  for  some  time  to  speak  in  this  strain, 
of  what  God  had  done  for  us,  as  an  evidence  that  he 
watched  over  our  destinies,  and  would  take  care  of 
our  interests  even  to  the  end  ;  and  then,  in  view  of  the 
wrongs  we  had  suffered,  exclaimed  :  "  Is  it  possible  for 
us  to  behold  the  ashes,  the  ruins  of  large  and  opulent 
towns  that  have  been  burnt  in  the  most  wanton  man- 
ner ;  to  view  the  graves  of  our  dear  countrymen,  whose 
blood  has  been  most  cruelly  spilt ;  to  hear  the  cries  and 
screeches  of  our  ravished  matrons  and  virgins,  that  had 
the  misfortune  to  fall  into  the  enemies'  hands — and 
think  of  returning  to  the  cruel  and  bloody  power 
which  has  done  all  these  things  ?  No  ;  we  are  not  to 
suppose  such  a  thought  can  dwell  in  the  mind  of  a  free 
and  sensible  American.  The  same  feelings  in  nature 
that  led  a  Peruvian  prince  to  choose  the  other  -place, 
must  also  teach  us  to  prefer  connection  with  any  other 
people  on  the  globe  rather  than  with  those  from  whom 
we  have  experienced  such  unrighteous  severities  and 
unparalleled  cruelties/'  He  then  paid  a  short  tribute 
to  the  good  who  had  fallen,  and  who,  he  said,  "  shall 
be  held  in  everlasting  remembrance  ;"  and  urged  on 
all  the  necessity  of  continued,  untiring  effort,  if  they 
would  win  the  glorious  prize  of  complete  independence. 


54  REV.    PHILIP     PAYSON. 

While,  in  imagination,  he  thus  beheld  our  final  tri- 
umph, and  called  up  before  his  mental  vi&ion  the  spec- 
tacle of  a  free  people,  guiding  and  controlling,  under 
God,  their  own  destinies,  he  seemed  suddenly  to  be 
filled  with  prophetic  fire,  and  rapt  with  the  inspiring 
view  that,  far  beyond  the  bloody  battle-fields,  rose 
on  the  future,  he  exclaimed :  "  To  anticipate  the 
future  glory  of  America  from  our  present  hopes  and 
prospects  is  ravishing  and  transporting  to  the  mind. 
In  this  light  we  behold  our  country  beyond  the  reach 
of  all  oppressors — under  the  great  charter  of  inde- 
pendence, enjoying  the  purest  liberty,  beautiful  and 
strong  in  its  union,  the  envy  of  tyrants  and  devils,  but 
the  delight  of  God  and  all  good  men,  a  refuge  to  the 
oppressed,  the  joy  of  the  earth  ;  each  state  happy  in  a 
wise  model  of  government,  and  abounding  in  wise 
men,  patriots  and  heroes  ;  the  strength  and  ability  cf 
the  whole  continent  collected  in  a  grave  and  vener- 
able council,  at  the  head  of  all,  seeking  and  pro- 
moting the  good  of  the  present  and  future  generations. 
Hail,  my  happy  country,  saved  of  the  Lord  ! 
Happy  land  !  emerged  from  the  deluges  of  the 
old  world,  drowned  in  luxury  and  lewd  ex- 
CESS !  Hail,  happy  posterity,  that  shall  reap 
the  peaceful  fruits  of  our  sufferings,  fatigues 

AND    AVAR  !" 

It  is  needless  to  dwell  on  the  encouraging,  inspirit- 
ing effect  of  such  a  sermon  as  this  on  both  the  repre- 
sentatives in  Provincial  Congress  assembled,  and  on 
the  clergy  and  their  congregations  throughout  the 
Colonies  ;  but  the  prophecy  and  invocation  at  the  close 


REV.    PHILIP     PAYSON.  55 

are  certainly  most  noteworthy,  and  seem  like  a  direct 
inspiration  from  heaven,  not  merely  as  foretelling  the 
future  independence  and  glory  of  the  country,  but 
the  exact  form  and  character  of  the  government  so 
boldly  sketched.  Through  three  years  of  doubtful 
war,  and  all  the  troubles,  and  dangers,  and  uncertainty, 
that  surrounded  and  retarded  the  formation  of  a  new 
government,  he  saw  the  union  of  states,  "each  one 
happy  in  a  wise  model  of  government ,"  while  "the 
strength  and  ability  of  the  ivhole  continent,  collected  in 
a  grave  and  venerable  council,  is  at  the  head  of  all, 
seeking  and  promoting  the  good  of  the  present  and  fu- 
ture generations"  This  uttered  fifty  years  after  would 
have  been  literal  history.  Here  was  the  outline  of 
the  great  confederacy  which  was  eventually  formed 
with  so  much  labor,  and  which  made  us  "  the  refuge 
of  the  oppressed,  the  joy  of  the  earth.7'  One  can 
imagine  with  what  intent  attitude  and  breathless 
silence  the  Representatives  listened  to  this  prophetic 
outburst,  and  for  the  moment  forgot  the  perils  that 
surrounded  them,  and  the  sore  trials  that  awaited 
them  in  the  contemplation  of  this  vision  of  their 
country  free  and  happy.  It  seemed  as  if  God  himself 
were  calling  on  them  to  untiring  exertion  and  firm 
trust  by  his  promise  of  success. 


CHAPTER    V. 

Personal  Influence  or  the  Clergy. — Appointment  of  Chaplains.— Corres- 
pondence  BETWEEN  THE   MINISTERS   OF     CONNECTICUT    AND    MASSACHUSETTS. — 

Thaxter,  Foster  and  Payson  fighting  at  Lexington  and  Concord. — 
"Washington  asks  Congress  for  Chaplains. — Numher  and  Names  of,  in 
the  Army  at  Cambridge. — The  Plan  of  one  for  two  Regiments  broken 
up. — Washington's  Second  Letter  to  Congress  on  the  Subject. — His 
General  Order  respecting  Chaplains. — David  Ely. — Joseph  Fish.—  Jonah 
Stearns. — John  Mills.— David  Caldwell. — Thomas  Read.— Robert  Da- 
vidson.— Elizur  Goodrich.— Wm.  Goriiam. — John  Steele. — Francis  Cum- 
mings. — Azel  Roe. — IIezekiah  Balcil— Charles  McKnigiit. —  Manasseii 
Cutler. — Nathan  Strong. —  Nathaniel  Porter. — Annie  Roiuns. —  John 
Cleveland.— Samuel  McClintock. — IIezekiah  Ripley.— Isaac  Lewis.— Dr. 
Latta.— Dr.  Armstrong. 

Having  endeavored  briefly  to  illustrate  the  influ- 
ence of  the  clergy  on  the  Revolution  in  New  England, 
by  showing  the  systematic,  direct  power  they  brought 
to  bear  on  the  representatives  of  the  people,  and 
through  them  on  every  pastor  and  congregation  in  the 
Colony,  a  power  more  formidable  than  could  be  wielded 
by  solemn  acts  of  associations  or  synods,  and  as  de- 
serving of  special  recognition  as  the  organization  of 
town  committees  and  the  resolutions  of  councils  of 
safety  ;  I  come  now  to  speak  more  of  personal  influ- 
ence and  actions,  of  individual  clergymen  in  their  re- 
spective circles  and  stations.  The  annual  sermon 
preached  at  the  meeting  of  the  representatives  of  the 
people  was  a  representative  sermon.  Its  sentiments 
were  regarded  as  those  of  the  great  body  of  the  clergy 
throughout  the  Colony,  and  hence  went  before  the  peo- 


PERSONAL    INFLUENCE    OF    THE    CLERGY.      57 

pie  with  the  highest  authority  and  the  most  solemn 
sanctions.  They  had,  besides,  the  indorsement  of  the 
civil  power,  and  hence  ceased  to  be  individual  views, 
and  became  those  of  the  clergy  and  the  Provincial 
Congress  united.  But  as  in  the  army  and  in  the  civil 
government  the  great  results  finally  reached  are  not  to 
be  attributed  exclusively  to  the  official  acts  of  bodies 
of  men  or  of  those  in  high  authority,  so  the  tremen- 
dous influence  wielded  by  the  clergy  was  not  wholly 
confined  to  those  acts  sanctioned  by  councils  or  by 
Congress.  Patriotic,  energetic  individuals  in  all  de- 
partments did  their  share  of  the  work,  and  exhibited 
traits  of  heroism  and  a  devotion  to  the  common  cause 
which  entitle  them  to  a  place  among  the  good  and 
great  names  of  the  Revolution,  that  have  become  em- 
balmed in  our  memory,  and  consigned  to  a  glorious 
immortality. 

The  appointment  of  clergymen  to  official  positions 
in  the  army  and  navy,  under  the  designation  of  chap- 
lains, is  a  custom  of  long  standing  ;  and,  at  the  pre- 
sent day,  among  Christian  nations  is  considered  neces- 
sary to  their  complete  organization.  It  would  have 
been  natural,  therefore,  for  Congress,  as  a  mere  matter 
of  custom,  and  in  imitation  of  the  mother  country,  to 
appoint  chaplains  in  the  American  army.  They  did 
so  ;  and  chaplains,  at  the  present  time,  form  a  part  of 
our  military  organizations,  and  rank  as  officers,  and 
draw  pay  like  them.  The  propriety  of  this  custom  is 
recognized  by  all — for  the  sick,  the  suffering  and  dying 
need  spiritual  advisers  as  much  as  they  do  hospitals 
and  surgeons. 

3* 


58  PERSONAL     INFLUENCE 

But  I  do  not  design  to  speak  of  the  office  exclu- 
sively, or  of  those  who  simply  discharged  its  duties 
faithfully.  A  vast  number  were  appointed  more  for 
their  out&ide  general  influence,  than  because  they  were 
earnest,  self-denying  ministers  of  God — not  that  they 
wrere  not  greatly  esteemed  and  valued  in  this  respect, 
but  they  wrere  bold  and  active  patriots  besides,  stirring 
up  rebellion,  encouraging  the  weak  and  timid  by  their 
example  as  well  as  by  their  teachings,  and  inspiring 
the  brave  and  true  with  confidence  by  their  heroism 
and  lofty  trust  in  the  righteousness  of  the  cause  they 
vindicated.  It  is  with  this  class  of  chaplains  and 
clergy  that  I  have  chiefly  to  do. 

A  chaplain,  when  taken  prisoner,  is  usually  treated 
with  great  courtesy  and  consideration,  but  there  was  a 
class  of  clergymen  and  chaplains  in  the  Kevolution, 
whom  the  British,  when  they  once  laid  hands  on  them, 
treated  with  the  most  barbarous  severity.  Dreading 
them  for  the  influence  they  wielded,  and  hating  them 
for  the  obstinacy,  courage  and  enthusiasm  they  infused 
into  the  rebels,  they  violated  all  the  usages  of  wrar 
among  civilized  nations,  in  order  to  inflict  punishment 
upon  them. 

Suffering  for  their  patriotism,  as  these  clergy  did, 
and  expecting  a  halter  if  the  Colonies  should  fail  in 
their  effort  to  obtain  freedom,  they  deserve  to  be  re- 
membered with  honor,  and  have  their  names  go  down 
to  immortality,  linked  with  that  most  important 
struggle  in  the  world's  history.  In  the  first  gathering 
of  tho  yeomanry  at  Lexington  and  Concord,  as  wrell  as 
afterwards   in   the  miscellaneous   enthusiastic  assem- 


OF    THE     CLERGY.  59 

bling  of  the  army  around  Bunker  Hill,  they  bore  an 
important  part,  not  merely  as  servants  of  God  in  the 
discharge  of  their  official  duties,  but  as  patriots — har- 
anguing the  soldiers,  and  even  leading  them  into  the 
conflict. 

The  British  were  aware  of  the  tremendous  influence 
the  clergy  wielded  in  the  Colonies,  and  saw  with  alarm 
that  it  was  thrown  on  the  side  of  rebellion.  Indeed 
they  were  accused  of  being  at  the  bottom  of  it.  In 
1774,  the  Governor  of  Massachusetts  refused  the  request 
of  the  Assembly  to  appoint  a  fast — "  For/'  said  he,  "  the 
request  was  only  to  give  an  opportunity  for  sedition  to 
flow  from  the  pulpit/1  u  The  taking  away  of  civil 
liberty,"  wrote  the  ministers  of  Connecticut  to  their 
brethren  of  Boston,  u  will  involve  the  ruin  of  religious 
liberty  also.  e  *  *  Bear  your  heavy  load  with 
Christian  fortitude  and  resolution."  The  answer  came 
back:  "While  we  complain  to  heaven  and  earth  of 
the  cruel  oppression  we  are  under,  we  ascribe  right- 
eousness to  God.  The  surprising  union  of  the  Colonies 
affords  encouragement.  It  is  an  inexhaustible  source 
of  comfort  that  the  Lord  omnipotent  reigneth." 

As  before  hostilities  commenced,  there  was  scarcely 
a  military  muster  at  which  they  were  not  present,  ex- 
horting the  militia  to  stand  up  manfully  for  the  cause 
of  God — on  some  occasions  saying,  u  Behold,  God  him- 
self is  with  us  for  our  captain,  and  his  priests  with 
sounding  trumpets  to  cry  the  alarm  " —  it  was  to  be 
expected,  when  war  actually  broke  out,  they  would  be 
found  in  the  ranks  of  the  rebels,  urging  forward  what 
they  had  so  long  proclaimed  as  a  religious  duty.     The 


60  PERSONAL    INFLUENCE 

first  outbreak  at  Lexington  and  Concord  gave  them  no 
opportunity  to  exhibit  their  zeal  officially,  and  so  some 
shouldered  their  muskets,  and  fought  like  common 
soldiers.  Among  these  were  Thaxter,  of  Westford, 
and  Foster,  who  showed  that  they  could  fight  as  well 
as  pray. 

There,  too,  was  the  amiable  and  learned  Payson,  of 
Chelsea.  He  was  so  adverse  to  bloodshed  and  all  the 
horrors  of  war  that  he  had  felt  it  his  duty  to  preach 
patience  and  even  submission.  His  bolder  and  more 
resolute  brethren  near  him  took  such  umbrage  at  this 
that  they  refused  to  let  him  preach  in  their  pulpits. 
They  wanted  no  conciliatory  doctrines  taught  to  their 
people.  The  brutal  outrage  at  Lexington  transformed 
this  peaceful  scholar  and  meek  divine  into  the  fiery, 
intrepid  soldier,  and  seizing  a  musket  he  put  himself 
at  the  head  of  a  party,  and  led  them  forward  to  the 
attack.  The  gentle  voice  that  had  so  long  spoken  only 
words  of  peace  suddenly  rung  like  that  of  a  prophet 
of  old.  A  body  of  British  soldiers  advancing  along 
the  road,  he  poured  into  them  such  a  destructive  volley 
that  the  whole  were  slain  or  taken  prisoners.  He  was 
a  man  of  peace  and  conciliation,  but  the  first  citizen's 
blood  that  crimsoned  the  green  sward  made  a  clean 
sweep  of  all  his  arguments  and  objections,  and  he  en- 
tered with  his  whole  soul  into  the  struggle. 

At  a  later  day,  when  Washington  assumed  command 
of  the  army  at  Cambridge,  he  found  chaplains  attached 
to  the  different  regiments  sent  from  the  various  Colo- 
nies —some  of  them  volunteers  without  pay,  and  others 
regularly  appointed  by  the  Provincial  Congress.    As  tho 


THE    CLERGY.  Gl 

organization  of  the  army  was  perfected,  measures  were 
adopted  for  their  provision  by  the  general  Congress, 
and  their  number  and  the  regiments  to  which  they  be- 
longed formed  a  part  of  the  regular  army  returns  of 
Washington. 

At  first  they  were  not  numerous,  as  the  government 
had  taken  no  action  on  the  subject,  but  its  attention 
was  soon  called  to  it,  and  on  May  25th,  1775,  we  find 
a  committee  of  the  Provincial  Congress  of  Massachu- 
setts reporting  : 

"  Whereas  it  has  been  represented  to  this  Congress 
that  several  ministers  of  the  religious  assemblies  within 
this  Colony  have  expressed  their  willingness  to  attend 
the  army*"  in  the  capacity  of  chaplain,  as  they  may  be 
directed  by  the  Congress,  therefore 

Resolved,  That  it  be  and  is  hereby  recommended  to 
the  ministers  of  the  several  religious  assemblies  within 
the  Colony  that,  with  the  leave  of  their  congregations, 
they  attend  said  army  in  their  several  towns  to  the 
number  of  thirteen  at  one  time,  during  the  time  the 
army  shall  be  encamped,  and  that  they  make  known 
their  resolution  to  the  Congress  thereon,  or  to  the 
committee  of  safety,  as  soon  as  may  be/' 

Washington,  who  in  the  French  and  Indian  war  had 
more  than  once  requested  the  Governor  of  Virginia  to 
allow  him  a  chaplain  for  his  regiment,  saw  with  the 
deepest  gratification  this  early  determination  of  the 
New  England  Colonies  to  supply  their  regiments  with 
regular  chaplains,  and  encouraged  it  in  every  way  he 

*  Under  Artemas  Ward 


62  CHAPLAINS. 

could.  On  August  15th,  1775,  lie  reported  fifteen 
chaplains  who  performed  service  for  twenty-three  regi- 
ments, while  twenty-nine  were  without  any.  In  Sep- 
tember there  were  twenty  regiments  supplied  and 
twenty  vacancies.  On  October  17th  there  were  twenty- 
two  against  nineteen ;  November  18th,  twenty-one 
against  eighteen  ;  December  13th,  nineteen  to  twenty- 
two  ;  and  January  9th,  1776,  nine  to  eighteen.0  On 
the  last  of  December,  1775,  Washington  wrote  to  the 
Continental  Congress  as  follows  : 

u  I  have  long  had  it  in  my  mind  to  mention  it  to 
Congress,  that  frequent  applications  have  been  made 
to  me  respecting  the  chaplains'  pay,  which  is  too  small 
to  encourage  men  of  abilities.  Some  of  them  who 
have  left  their  flocks  are  obliged  to  pay  the  parson 
acting  for  them  more  than  they  receive.  I  need  not 
point  out  the  great  utility  of  gentlemen,  wThose  lives 
and  conversation  are  unexceptionable,  being  employed 
in  that  service  in  this  army.  There  are  two  ways  of 
making  it  worthy  the  attention  of  such.     One  is  an 

*  The  warrants  varied  somewhat  in  the  different  Colonies,  but  the 
following  form,  adopted  in  Connecticut,  will  answer  as  a  sample  of  all : — 

"  To  Rev. ,  greeting : — Reposing  special  trust  and  confidence 

in  your  piety,  ability,  fidelity  and  good  conduct,  I  do  hereby  appoint 

you,  the  said ,  a  chaplain  of  the regiment,  and  do  hereby 

authorize  and  empower  you  to  exercise  the  several  acts  and  duties  of 
your  office  and  station  as  chaplain  of  the  said  regiment* which  you  are 
faithfully  to  perform  in  a  due  and  religious  discharge  thereof,  accord- 
ing to  the  important  trust  reposed  in  you,  for  which  this  is  your  war- 
rant. 

"Given  under  my  hand  and  ecal-at-arms,  in  the  Colony  aforesaid 
this  —  day  of  ,  a.  r».  1776. 


CHAPLAINS.  C3 

advancement  of  their  pay  ;  the  other,  that  one  chap- 
lain be  appointed  to  two  regiments.  This  last,  I  think, 
can  be  done  without  inconvenience.  I  beg  leave  to 
recommend  this  matter  to  Congress,  whose  sentiments 
hereon  I  shall  impatiently  expect." 

At  first  the  names  of  the  chaplains  were  inserted  in 
the  army  returns.  Thus,  on  the  8th  of  January,  1776, 
we  find  the  following  returns  : 

P.EGIMENT.  COMMANDER.  CHAPLAIN. 

1st  (Artillery) .  .  .Col.  Knox Abiel  Leonard. 

2d  (Foot) Col.  Reed Hezekiah  Smith. 

3d  "  Ebenezer  Learned Name  not  given. 

4th  "  John  Nixon Hezekiah  Smith. 

5th  "  Stark,  of  Vermont Noah  Cooke. 

6th  "  Asa  Whitcomb Isaac  Mansfield,  jr. 

Kb  "  Col.  Prescott None. 

8th  "  Enoch  Poor Noah  Cooke. 

9th  "■  James  M.  Varnum Ebenezer  David. 

10th  "  Samuel  II.  Parsons None. 

1  lth  «  Daniel  Hitchcock Oliver  Noble. 

12th  '•  Moses  Little .Oliver  Noble. 

13th  "  Joseph  Reed None. 

14th  "  John  Glover None. 

15th  "  John  Patterson David  Avery. 

16th  "  Paul  D.  Sargeant None. 

17th  "  Jedediah  Huntington,  Conn..  .John  Ellis. 

18th  "  Edmund  Phinney None. 

19th  "  Charles  Webb None. 

20th  "  Col.  Arnold Abiel  Leonard. 

21st  "  Jonathan  Ward None. 

22d  "  ....*...  Samuel  Wyllys John  Ellis. 

23d  "  John  Bailey None. 

24th  "  John  Greator None. 

25th  "  Wm.  Bond Ebenezer  David. 

26th  "  Loammi  Baldwin None. 

27th  "  Israel  Hutchinson Isaac  Mansfield. 


C4  LETTER     OF     WASHINGTON. 

Here  are  only  nine  chaplains  to  twenty-seven  regi- 
ments. After  this,  as  before  stated,  the  names  were 
left  out  in  the  army  returns,  and  the  number  and  the 
regiments  to  which  each  was  attached  alone  given. 
When  the  army  took  up  its  march  for  New  York  this 
arrangement  was  very  much  broken  up.  Many  clergy- 
men had  left  their  parishes  only  temporarily,  and  now 
rejoined  them  ;  while  some,  unable  to  be  so  far  from 
their  families,  surrendered  their  positions  to  others. 
Besides,  the  absence  of  Arnold's  regiment  in  Canada, 
and  the  separation  of  the  army — a  part  being  left  un- 
der Artemas  Ward  to  protect  Boston — had  rendered 
the  plan  by  which  one  chaplain  was  to  serve  for  two 
regiments  no  longer  practicable.  Washington,  depre- 
cating this  state  of  things,  wrote  to  Congress  from 
New  York,  on  the  1st  of  July,  1776,  respecting  it. 
He  said  :  "  I  would  also  beg  leave  to  mention  to 
Congress  the  necessity  there  is  of  some  new  regulation 
being  entered  into  respecting  the  chaplains  of  the 
army.  They  will  remember  that  applications  were 
made  to  increase  their  pay,  which  was  conceived  too 
low  for  their  support,  and  that  it  was  proposed,  if  it 
could  not  be  done  for  the  whole,  that  the  number 
should  be  lessened,  and  one  be  appointed  to  two  regi- 
ments, with  an  additional  allowance.  This  latter  ex- 
pedient was  adopted,  and  while  the  army  continued 
altogether  at  one  encampment,  answered  well,  or  at 
least  did  not  produce  many  inconveniences  ;  but  the 
army  being  now  differently  circumstanced  from  what 
it  then  was,  part  here,  part  in  Boston,  and  a  third 
part  detached  to  Canada,  has  introduced  much  confu- 


LETTER     OF     WASHINGTON.  65 

sion  and  disorder  in  this  instance  ;  nor  do  I  know  how 
it  is  possible  to  remedy  the  evil  but  by  affixing  one  to 
each  regiment,  with  salaries  competent  to  their  sup- 
port. No  shifting,  no  changing  from  one  to  the  other, 
can  answer  the  purpose,  and  in  many  cases  it  could 
not  be  done,  although  the  regiments  could  consent,  as 
when  detachments  are  composed  of  unequal  numbers, 
or  ordered  from  different  posts.  Many  more  incon- 
veniences might  be  pointed  out,  but  these,  it  is  pre- 
sumed, will  sufficiently  show  the  defect  of  the  present 
establishment,  and  the  propriety  of  an  alteration. 
What  that  alteration  shall  be  Congress  will  please  to 
determine.'' 

The  difficulties  surrounding  him,  the  gathering  of 
the  hostile  forces  on  every  side,  and  the  momentous 
interests  at  stake  in  the  great  battle  he  knew  to  be 
close  at  hand,  could  not  divert  his  mind  from  the  im- 
portance of  having  a  full  supply  of  chaplains  in  the 
army.  As  neither  in  the  wilds  of  the  Alleghanies, 
surrounded  by  hostile  Indians,  so  neither;  here,  at  the 
head  of  a  great  army,  did  he  forget  to  urge  on  those 
in  authority  to  provide  him  with  God-fearing  men. 
Fearless  in  combat,  unshaken  where  others  trembled 
and  were  dismayed,  and  taking  without  hesitation  the 
fate  of  the  nation  on  his  great  heart,  he  yet  turned 
ever  to  the  arm  and  protection  of  Him,  without  whose 
favor  human  exertion  is  in  vain. 

Congress  immediately  adopted  his  views,  and  Wash- 
ington having  received  a  dispatch  to  that  effect,  eight 
days  after  issued  the  following  general  order  : 


66  WASHINGTON'S    ORDER. 

"New  York,  July  9th,  1776. 

"  The  honorable  Continental  Congress  having  been 
pleased  to  allow  a  chaplain  to  each  regiment,  with  the 
pay  of  thirty-three  and  one-third  dollars  per  month, 
the  colonels  or  commanding  officers  of  each  regiment 
are  directed  to  procure  chaplains — accordingly  persons 
of  good  character  and  exemplary  lives — to  see  that  all 
inferior  officers  and  soldiers  pay  them  a  suitable  re- 
spect, and  attend  carefully  upon  religious  exercises. 
The  blessing  and  protection  of  Heaven  are  at  all  times 
necessary,  but  especially  is  it  in  times  of  public  dis- 
tress and  danger.  The  General  hopes  and  trusts  that 
every  officer  and  man  will  endeavor  so  to  live  and  act 
as  becomes  a  Christian  soldier,  defending  the  dearest 
rights  and  liberties  of  his  country." 

Before  his  plans,  however,  for  putting  the  chaplains 
on  a  proper  footing,  could  be  wholly  carried  out,  the 
disastrous  battle  of  Long  Island,  and  the  fall  of  New 
York,  almost  broke  up  his  imposing  army.  The  cap- 
ture of  Fort  Washington,  and  the  flight  of  the  disheart- 
ened fugitive  band  through  New  Jersey,  completed  its 
demoralization,  and  compelled  him  to  defer  further 
action,  till  he  could  once  more  reorganize  his  forces. 

Of  course  it  is  impossible,  and  would  not  be  desira- 
ble if  possible,  to  give  a  detailed  biography  of  each 
chaplain  who  served  in  the  army.  Many  served  only 
for  a  short  time,  others  performed  simply  the  prescribed 
routine  of  duties  faithfully,  and  a  narrative  of  their 
actions  would  be  only  a  recital  of  their  religious  ser- 
vices  before    their    respective   regiments.      Doubtless 


THE    CLERGY.  67 

there  are  many  personal  anecdotes  and  touching  inci- 
dents connected  with  these,  which  would  possess  deep 
interest  if  they  had  been  preserved,  but  they  perished 
with  their  authors,  or  their  immediate  descendants, 
and  have  passed  away  never  to  be  recalled. 

They,  therefore,  can  only  be  alluded  to  ;  while  from 
the  multitude  of  others,  better  known,  I  shall  select 
those  specially  distinguished  for  their  patriotism  and 
who  stand  in  history  as  representative  men.  It  is 
necessary  only  to  mention  a  few  of  the  names  of  these 
clergymen,  to  show  what  strong  minds  and  clear  heads 
stood  by,  and  sustained  the  cause  of  the  Colonies,  and 
furnish  abundant  proof  of  the  debt  of  gratitude  the 
country  owes  them. 

There  was  Dr.  David  Ely,  of  Huntington,  Conn., 
who,  though  surrounded  by  tories,  preached  rebellion 
so  warmly  and  effectually,  that  the  latter  declared  that, 
when  the  rebellion  wras  put  down,  they  would  hang 
him  on  an  oak  that  stood  near  his  own  church. 

Joseph  Fish,  of  Duxbury,  Mass.,  who,  although  sev- 
enty-six years  of  age,  when  invited  to  address  the  people, 
assembled  at  the  call  of  Washington,  for  immediate 
volunteers,  said,  after  a  stirring  harangue,  "Were  it  not 
that  my  nerves  are  unstrung,  and  my  limbs  enfeebled 
with  age,  on  such  a  call  as  you  have,  I  think  I  should 
willingly  quit  the  desk,  put  off  my  priestly  garments, 
buckle  on  the  harness,  and,  with  trumpet  in  hand, 
hasten  to  battle/' 

Jonah  Stearns,  of  New  Hampshire,  not  only 
preached  rebellion,  but  sacrificed  most  of  his  worldly 
wealth  to  sustain  it :  and  when  returning  from  a  stato 


68  THE    CLERGY. 

convention  at  Exeter,  called  to  decide  on  a  course  of 
action,  and  to  which  he  was  a  member,  said  to  his  boys 
assembled  to  hear  his  report,  after  answering  their  eager 
questions  :  "  If  the  cause  succeeds,  it  will  be  a  great 
blessing  to  the  country  ;  but  if  it  should  fail,  your  old 
father's  head  will  soon  be  a  button  for  a  halter  |w  and 
then  sent  them  into  the  army,  bidding  them  strike 
manfully  for  freedom. 

John  Mills,  of  Delaware,  though  of  a  nervous,  timid 
temperament,  in  the  cause  of  liberty  knew  no  fear  ;  and 
only  a  few  days  before  the  Declaration  of  Independence 
preached  to  his  people  from  1  Kings,  xii.  16,  the  lan- 
guage used  by  the  revolting  tribes  in  the  times  of  Re- 
hoboam  :  "  What  portion  have  we  in  David,  neither 
have  we  an  inheritance  in  the  son  of  Jesse.  To  your 
tents,  oh  Israel!" — telling  them  in  impassioned  elo- 
quence that  they  were  like  the  revolting  tribes  whom 
the  king  "refused  to  hear,"  though  their  " cause"  was 
"  the  Lord's  '"  and  that  the  time  had  come  to  throw 
off  their  allegiance  to  king  George,  and  be  free  forever. 

Dr.  David  Cauldwell,  of  Pennsylvania,  had  his  house 
plundered,  his  library  and  furniture  burned,  while  he 
was  hunted  like  a  common  felon  over  the  country,  on 
account  of  his  devotion  to  the  cause  of  liberty. 

Thomas  Read,  D.  D.,  of  the  same  State,  in  1776, 
shouldered  his  musket,  and,  with  forty  or  fifty  others, 
marched  to  Philadelphia  to  aid  in  defending  it  against 
Howe  ;  and  the  next  year  saved  Washington  from 
being  overwhelmed  at  Elk  Ferry  by  his  knowledge  of 
the  country. 

Dr.  Robert   Davidson,   of  Maryland,   addressed 


at 


THEIR     PATRIOTISM.  69 

different  places  the  assembled  troops,  from  1  Chronicles, 
v.  22  :  "  For  there  fell  down  many  slain,  because  the 
tear  teas  of  God,"  creating  the  most  intense  enthu- 
siasm among  officers  and  men. 

William  Graham,  of  Paxton,  near  Harrisburg,  when 
he  saw  great  backwardness  in  the  young  men  of  his 
parish  to  enlist  in  a  company  of  volunteer  riflemen, 
which  the  Governor  had  recommended,  stepped  out, 
and  had  his  own  name  enrolled,  and  thus,  by  his  ex- 
ample, shamed  them  into  patriotism. 

The  name  of  the  learned  Elizur  Goodrich  was  in 
every  patriot's  mouth  in  Connecticut. 

John  Steele,  of  Cumberland,  Pa.,  served  as  captain, 
and  lead  the  advance  company  of  nine  hundred  men 
in  their  march  to  the  seat  of  war,  and  often  preached 
with  his  gun  standing  by  his  side* 

Francis  Cummings  was  present  at  all  the  Mecklen- 
burg meetings,  and  afterwards  fought  in  several  bat- 
tles, and  though  eighty  years  of  age,  when  South 
Carolina  threatened  nullification,  said,  with  the  fire 
of  seventy-six  burning  in  his  aged  eye,  to  a  brother 
clergyman  who,  in  a  moment  of  excitement,  declared 
he  was  ready  to  draw  his  sword  against  the  general 
government :  "  If  you  dare  do  so,  I  will  draw  my 
sword  again,  and  cut  you  down  !  " 

Azel  Roe,  to  make  the  militia  of  his  parish  fight, 
put  himself  under  the  enemy's  fire,  and  refused  to  re- 
tire till  he  had  received  their  promise  that,  if  he  would, 
they  would  fight  it  out ;  and  afterwards  was  taken 
prisoner,  and  thrown  into  the  infamous  Sugar  House 
of  New  York. 


70  TIIECLERGY. 

Hezekiah  James  Baleh,  was  member  and  chief  actor 
in  the  Mecklenburg  Convention,  and  died  soon  after 
that  famous  declaration  was  given  to  the  world. 

Charles  McKnight,  of  Shrewsbury,  who,  on  account 
of  his  devotion  to  the  cause  of  liberty,  and  the  gallant 
conduct  of  his  patriotic  sons  on  the  field  of  battle, 
was  thrown  into  prison,  and  treated  with  a  brutality 
that  would  disgrace  a  savage.  His  constitution  broke 
down  under  it,  and  soon  after  his  release  he  died,  an- 
other victim  laid  upon  the  altar  of  his  country. 

A  similar  list  of  chaplains  might  be  made  out,  an 
account  of  whose  services  has  never  been  preserved  ; 
only  here  and  there  an  incident  snatched  from  oblivion 
remains  to  show  what  those  services  must  have  been, 
and  make  us  regret  that  so  much  has  been  lost. 

There  were  Manassah  Cutler,  D.  D.,  of  Killingsly, 
Conn.,  the  friend  of  Washington  and  Franklin,  who 
served  two  campaigns;  Dr.  Nathan  Strong,  of  Coventry, 
of  the  same  State,  who  not  only  served  as  chaplain,  but 
wrote  stirring  papers  on  the  rights  of  the  people,  which 
were  circulated  far  and  wide  ;  Dr.  Nathaniel  Porter, 
six  feet  high,  with  hair  black  as  a  raven's  wing,  who,  with 
Wingate's  regiment,  marched  on  foot,  like  a  common 
soldier,  through  the  wilderness  to  Fort  Independence 
on  Lake  Champlain  ;  Eev.  Amnie  Buhnah  Bobbins, 
of  Branford,  Mass.,  who  accompanied  Schuyler's  bri- 
gade as  a  volunteer  to  Canada,  and  became  an  angel  of 
mercy  to  the  army  when  it  was  stricken  down  with  the 
small  pox  —  not  only  praying  morning  and  evening 
with  the  regiment,  but  nursing  the  sick  and  relieving 
the  destitute  and  suffering,  till  his  herculean  frame  at 


THEIR    PATRIOTISM.  71 

last  broke  down  under  his  incessant  labors  and  ex- 
posure, and  he  returned  home — adding  one  more  to  the 
number  of  brave  hearts  who  held  their  lives  of  small 
account,  when  compared  with  the  welfare  of  their 
country. 

To  these  might  be  added  John  Cleveland,  of  Can- 
terbury, Conn.,  who  as  far  back  as  1758  was  chaplain 
to  a  provincial  regiment,  and  stood  amid  the  raining 
balls  that  smote  Lord  Howe  at  Ticonderoga,  and  after- 
wards, in  the  same  capacity,  went  to  Louisburg,  and 
witnessed  the  terrific  siege  of  six  weeks,  which  ended 
in  the  fall  of  that  Gibraltar  of  America.  Used  to  the 
hazards  of  the  battle-field,  as  soon  as  the  Eevolution 
broke  out,  he  offered  his  services  to  the  Continental 
army  at  Cambridge,  and  accompanied  it  to  New  York, 
to  see  it  melt  away  like  the  frosts  of  morning  before 
the  enemy  : — 

Dr.  Samuel  McClintock,  of  Greenland,  N.  H.,  so 
often  represented  in  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  in  his 
robes  of  office,  and  who  sent  four  sons  into  the  army, 
only  one  of  whom  lived  to  hear  the  anthems  of  peace 
that  rolled  over  the  liberated  land  : — 

Dr.  Hezekiah  Kipley,  the  friend  of  Washington, 
whose  commanding  form  was  often  seen  stooping  over 
the  couch  of  the  sick  and  wounded,  and  whose  elo- 
quent voice  never  failed  to  animate  the  troops,  and 
who  heard  without  a  sigh  of  regret  that  his  house, 
furniture,  and  library  had  been  committed  to  the 
flames  by  the  exasperated  foe. 

Neither  should  Dr.  Isaac  Lewis,  of  Stratford,  Conn., 
be  forgotten,  who,  when  the  British  attempted  to  land 


72  THE     CLERGY. 

at  Norwalk,  assembled  with  his  people  to  repel  them, 
and  saw  a  cannon  hall  smite  the  earth  within  three 
feet  of  him,  without  disturbing  his  serenity.  Forced 
back  by  superior  numbers,  they  witnessed  their  town 
given  to  the  flames.  Only  one  house,  too  remote  to 
attract  the  attention  of  the  invaders,  was  left  standing, 
and  into  this  the  pastor  gathered  his  people,  and 
preached  to  them  from  Isaiah,  lxiv.  11,  12  :  "  Our 
holy  and  beautiful  house,  where  our  fathers  praised 
thee,  is  burned  with  fire,  and  all  our  pleasant  things 
are  laid  waste.  Wilt  thou  refrain  thyself  for  these 
things,  0  Lord,  wilt  thou  hold  thy  peace,  and  afflict  us 
very  sore  ?"  Chaplain  to  the  regiment  of  Col.  Philip 
P.  Brady,  at  Bergen,  he,  after  seven  months  of  arduous 
labor,  was  seized  with  the  camp-fever,  and  brought  so 
low  that  his  life  was  despaired  of.  The  good  old  pa- 
triot, however,  lived  to  see  the  country,  for  which  he 
had  prayed,  and  toiled,  and  suffered,  free  and  happy. 

The  brave  Dr.  Latta,  of  Lancaster  Co.,  Pa.,  not 
only  served  as  chaplain,  but  on  one  occasion,  when  an 
unusual  number  of  his  parishioners  were  drafted  into 
the  army,  in  order  to  encourage  them,  shouldered  his 
knapsack,  and  accompanied  them  as  a  common  soldier 
on  their  campaign. 

Dr.  Armstrong,  of  Maryland,  served  first  in  the 
ranks  as  a  volunteer,  and  afterwards,  when  licensed  to 
preach,  became  chaplain,  and  continued  with  the  army 
till  the  overthrow  of  the  British  at  Yorktown. 

John  Martin,  after  praying  with  the  soldiers  at 
Blinker  Hill,  seised  a  musket  and  fought  gallantly 
to  the  close  of  the  battle.     A  day  or    two   after   he 


THEIR    PATRIOTISM.  73 

preached  to  the  remnants  of  his  shattered  regiment 
from  Nehemiah  iv.  14  :  "  And  I  said  unto  the  nobles 
and  to  the  rulers,  and  to  the  rest  of  the  people,  Be  ye 
not  afraid  of  tliem." 

Nathaniel  Bartlett,  of  Reading,  chaplain  awhile  to 
Tutnam,  was  accustomed  to  make  his  parochial  visits 
with  a  musket  on  his  shoulder,  to  protect  himself  from 
the  tories  who  had  sworn  to  hang  him,  and  kept  his 
garret  full  of  gunpowder,  for  the  use  of  his  parishion- 
ers in  case  of  an  attack. 

All  these,  and  a  hundred  other  great  and  good  men, 
by  their  example  and  eloquence  fed  the  fires  of  liberty, 
and  sustained  the  courage  of  the  people.  Men  of 
learning  and  culture,  they  were  looked  up  to  for  ad- 
vice and  counsel — whose  praise  was  not  only  in  all  the 
churches,  but  throughout  the  land,  for  their  integrity, 
ability  and  patriotism.  These  formed  a  host  of  de- 
voted laborers  in  the  common  cause,  but  more  than 
this,  their  prayers  arose  incessantly,  from  camp  and 
field,  that  God  would  defend  the  right,  and  save  his 
people.  These  last  are  counted  as  nothing  by  the  his- 
torian, but  we  may  rest  assured  that  they  did  moro 
than  resolutions  of  Congress,  and  acts  of  committees 
of  safety,  towards  achieving  our  liberties.  One  may 
consider  it  beneath  the  dignity  of  history  to  put  them 
among  the  causes  that  led  ultimately  to  our  success  : 
but  when  that  history  comes  to  be  read  in  the  light  of 
eternity,  the  enthusiasm  of  volunteers,  and  the  steady 
courage  of  the  disciplined  battalions,  will  sink  into  in- 
significance beside  the  devout  prayers  and  faith  of 
these  men  of  God. 

4 


CHAPTER    VI. 

JONAS    CLARK. 

The  Pastor  or  Lexington.— TTis  Ministerial  Life.— Early  Teachings.— Pa- 
triotic Conduct  and  Ability  as  a  Statesman. — Hancock  and  Adams  find 
Emil  in  his  House.— News  of  the  Approach  of  thf.  Knemy.— His  Ac- 
count  of  it. — Summoning  of  the  Militia. — Scene  on  thf  Green.— Approach 
of  the  Enemy. — The  Slaughter.—  Mr.  Clark  among  his  slain  Parishion- 
ers.— His  Feelings  and  Prediction.— His  Death. 

In  writing  the  biographies  of  the  illustrious,  patri- 
otic clergy  and  chaplains  of  the  Revolution,  I  can 
commence  the  list  with  no  worthier  name  than  Jonas 
Clark,  the  pastor  of  the  quiet  town  of  Lexington. 
This  obscure  New  England  village  has  become  as  well 
known,  throughout  the  civilized  world,  as  Rome  is. 
To  human  observation  there  was  nothing  in  passing 
events  to  justify  a  prediction  of  its  future  renown,  but 
that  inscrutable  Providence,  that  weaves  the  destinies 
of  nations  as  well  as  of  men,  was  preparing  to  make 
that  unobtrusive  spot  the  beacon  light  of  the  world, 
and  its  name  the  watchword  of  freemen  for  all  time. 
Among  the  agents  designed  to  bring  about  this  extra- 
ordinary result  no  better  one  could  have  been  found 
than  Jonas  Clark. 

He  was  born  in  Newton,  Mass.,  Dec.  25th,  1730. 
Graduating  at  Cambridge  at  the  early  age  of  twen- 
ty-two, lie  immediately  entered  on  his  theological 
studies,  and  when  but  twenty-five  years  of  age  was 
ordained  pastor  of  Lexington.     Here  he  settled  on  a 


PATRIOTIC     CONDUCT.  75 

little  farm,  and,  with  a  salary  of  eighty  pounds  a  year, 
and  twenty  cords  of  wood,  pursued  the  quiet,  retired 
life  of  a  country  minister.  Grave  and  dignified  in  the 
pulpit,  yet  earnest  in  manner,  he  presented  the  truths 
of  the  Gospel  with  a  fervor  and  power  that  always 
commanded  the  deepest  attention  of  his  hearers.  "  His 
voice  was  powerful  and  agreeable,  and  when  excited  by 
his  subject,  which  was  often  the  case,  it  extended  far 
beyond  the  bounds  of  the  meeting-house,  and  could  be 
heard  distinctly  by  those  who  were  anywhere  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood/' 

Uniting  the  life  of  farmer  with  that  of  village  pas- 
tor, his  life  seemed  destined  to  flow  on  evenly,  and  un- 
noticed by  the  great  world  without,  to  its  close.  But 
when  the  trouble  between  the  Colonies  and  the  mother 
country  commenced,  he  stepped  at  once  from  his  ob- 
scurity, and  became  known  throughout  all  the  region 
as  one  of  the  most  uncompromising  patriots  of  the 
day.  Earnestly,  yet  without  passion,  he  discussed 
from  the  pulpit  the  great  questions  at  issue,  and  that 
powerful  voice  thundered  forth  the  principles  of  per- 
sonal, civil,  and  religious  liberty,  and  the  right  of  re- 
sistance, in  tones  as  earnest  and  effective  as  it  had  the 
doctrine  of  salvation  by  the  cross. 

Long  before  it  wras  certain  that  the  quarrel  must 
come  to  blows,  he  had  so  thoroughly  indoctrinated  his 
people  with  these  great  truths,  that  no  better  spot  on 
the  continent  could  have  been  found  for  the  British  first 
to  try  the  terror  of  their  arms,  and  make  the  experiment 
to  subjugate  the  Colonists  by  force.  His  congregation 
was  ripe  for  revolution,  ready  to  fight  and  to  die  rather 


76  JOXAS     CLARK. 

than  yield  to  arbitrary  force.  His  wife  was  cousin  to 
John  Hancock,  and  thus  the  latter  became  a  frequent 
visitor  at  his  house.  "Whether  the  pastor  influenced 
Hancock,  or  Hancock  the  pastor,  is  of  little  conse- 
quence ;  they  were  harmonious  on  the  question  that 
agitated  the  Colonies.  The  conversation  of  these  two 
patriots,  as  they  surveyed  the  vast  interests  at  stake, 
and  the  fearful  struggle  they  believed  to  be  unavoid- 
able, and  the  words  of  courage  uttered  in  that  quiet 
parsonage,  would  make  a  heroic  page  in  American  his- 
tory, could  they  have  been  preserved.  The  Rev.  Wil- 
liam Ware,  of  Cambridge,  in  writing  to  Dr.  Sprague, 
says,  "It  would  not  be  beyond  the  truth  to  assert  that 
there  was  no  person  at  that  time  and  in  that  vicinity 
■ — not  only  no  clergyman,  but  no  other  person  of  ichat- 
cver  calling  or  profession,  who  took  a  firmer  stand 
for  the  liberties  of  the  country,  or  was  more  ready  to 
perform  the  duties  and  endure  the  sacrifices  of  a  pa- 
triot, than  the  minister  of  Lexington.  He  was  con- 
sidered, moreover,  not  only  as  a  person  of  great  ardor 
of  temperament  as  a  politician — the  first  to  move  him- 
self and  set  others  in  motion  on  great  emergencies — 
but  also  as  a  person  of  great  abilities,  whose  judgment 
was  one  more  than  others  to  be  respected  and  relied 
upon.  No  one  than  he  better  understood  the  state  of 
the  question  as  between  the  Colonies  and  England  ; 
nor  were  there  any  who,  earlier  than  he,  or  with  more 
talent  at  the  town  meetings,  and  at  other  places  and 
limes,  argued  the  great  topics  on  which  differences  had 
arisen,  and  then,  through  the  representatives  of  the 
town,    presented    the   arguments   and   conclusions   at 


ABILITY     AS    A     STATESMAN.  77 

which  they  had  arrived,  in  papers  which  he  had  pre- 
pared, to  the  General  Court,  at  their  various  session." 

The  people  had  become  so  thoroughly  indoctrinated 
in  his  views,  and  been  so  animated  by  his  appeals  from 
the  pulpit  and  in  public  meetings,  that  they  had  them 
embodied  in  instructions  to  their  delegate  to  the  Pro- 
vincial Legislature  as  the  expression  of  their  wishes 
and  determination.  Those  instructions  remain  to  this 
day,  and  are  engrossed  on  the  town  records  as  a  stand- 
ing memorial  not  only  of  his  patriotism,  but  his  ability 
as  a  stateman. 

Mr.  Everett,  in  speaking  of  these  papers,  says,  "  Al- 
though the  part  taken  by  Lexington  was  in  full  accord- 
ance with  the  course  pursued  by  many  other  towns  in 
the  Province,  there  is  nothing  invidious  in  the  remark, 
that  this  document,  in  which  the  principles  and  opin- 
ions of  the  town  arc  embodied,  has  few  equals,  and  no 
superiors  among  the  productions  of  that  class.  They 
are  well  known  to  have  proceeded  from  his  pen,  who, 
for  many  years  previous  to  the  Revolution  to  the  close 
of  his  life,  exercised  a  well  deserved  ascendency  in  the 
public  concerns  of  the  town.  Mr.  Clark  was  of  a  class 
of  citizens  who  rendered  services  second  to  no  others 
in  enlightening  and  animating  the  popular  mind  on 
the  great  question  at  issue,  /  mean  the  patriotic  clergy 
of  New  England." 

It  was  to  a  congregation  educated  by  such  a  man 
that  Providence  allowed  to  be  entrusted  the  momen- 
tous events  of  the  19th  of  April,  events  which  were  to 
decide  more  than  the  fate  of  a  continent — that  of  civil 
liberty  the  world  over.     "  No  single  individual,"  says 


78  JONAS     CLARK. 

a  distinguished  man,  "  probably  "Sid  so  much  to  edu- 
cate the  people  up  to  that  point  of  intelligence,  firm- 
ness, and  courage,  as  their  honored  and  beloved  pastor/' 
If  he  had  been  opposed  to  resistance,  or  an  advocate 
of  timorous,  non-committal  measures,  where  would 
have  been  the  fiery  cross  that  flew  from  limit  to  limit 
of  the  thirteen  Colonies,  and  set  the  hearts  of  men  on 
fire,  and  made  the  shout,  "to  arms  !  to  arms  !"  roll 
like  thunder  over  the  land  ! 

Adams  and  Hancock,  when  proscribed  by  the  royal 
government,  found  an  asylum  in  his  house.  They 
were  there  when  the  first  verbal  message  came  from 
Warren,  that  mischief  was  afoot.  "  Then/'  says  Mr. 
Clark  in  a  note  he  makes  of  the  event,  "came  an  ex- 
press in  writing  stating  that  eight  or  nine  officers  of 
the  king's  troops  were  seen  just  before  night  passing 
the  road  towards  Lexington,  in  a  musing,  contempla- 
tive posture,  and  it  was  suspected  they  were  out  upon 
some  evil  design.  Ten  or  twelve  men,  on  account  of 
Hancock  and  Adams,  were  detailed  to  guard  my  house 
that  night.  Those  officers  passed  through  the  town. 
Three  men  were  sent  to  watch  them.  At  10  o'clock 
said  officers  stopped  on  the  borders  of  Lincoln,  seized 
their  bridles,  put  pistols  to  their  hearts,  and  swore  if 
they  stirred  another  step  they  were  dead  men.  Between 
the  hours  of  twelve  and  one  o'clock  we  received  intel- 
ligence from  Warren  that  a  British  detachment  was  on 
the  way  to  destroy  the  stores  at  Lexington."  The 
three  held  a  hurried  consultation,  and  resolved  to  fight. 
At  two  o'clock,  peal  after  peal  from  the  belfry  called 
the  excited  inhabitants  together  on  the  church  green. 


APPROACH    OF     THE    ENEMY.  79 

There  they  found  their  pastor  who  had  arrived  before 
them.  The  roll  was  called,  and  a  hundred  and  fifty 
answered  to  their  names.  The  men,  the  hour,  the 
crisis  at  hand,  made  the  scene  on  that  quiet  green  a 
most  solemn  and  impressive  one.  The  church,  the 
pastor,  and  his  congregation  thus  standing  together  in 
the  dim  light,  while  the  stars  looked  tranquilly  down 
from  the  sky  above  them,  formed  a  subject  for  a  great 
historic  picture.  As  the  pastor  surveyed  the  silent 
ranks  a  strange  light  gleamed  in  his  eye,  for  he  saw 
clearly  beyond  that  night's  business  and  his  attentive  ear 
caught  from  afar  faint,  but  distinctly,  the  clock  of  des- 
tiny striking.  The  great  question  with  Hancock  and 
Adams  had  been,  would  the  people  fight  ?  Would 
these  humble  mechanics  and  farmers  dare  resist  the 
drilled  troops  of  England  ?  Clark  knew  they  would. 
Had  he  not  trained  them  for  this  hour  ?  Were  his 
years  of  labor  to  bo  in  vain  ?  No,  they  would  fight, 
and  if  need  be  die,  too,  under  the  shadow  of  the  house 
of  God  ! 

In  the  meantime  swift  riders  had  been  sent  along 
the  road  towards  Boston,  to  obtain  if  possible  some 
information  of  the  approaching  enemy.  These,  after 
going  several  miles,  returned,  and  reported  every  thing 
quiet  in  that  direction.  A  watch  was  then  set,  and 
the  men  dismissed  to  their  homes,  with  orders  to  come 
together  at  beat  of  drum.  Just  as  day  was  breaking, 
an  advance  company  of  British  marines  appeared  in 
sight,  marching  swiftly  and  in  dead  silence  on  the  place. 
In  a  moment  alarm  guns  broke  the  stillness  of  the 
morning,  the  church  bell  rung  its  loud  and  startling 


80  "    JONAS    CLARK. 

peal  over  the  village,  and  the  drum  heat  to  arms. 
Seizing  their  firelocks  fathers  and  sons  rushed  to- 
gether to  the  common,  and  soon  tho  stern  browed  yeo- 
men stood  drawn  up  in  two  ranks  near  the  meeting 
house.  The  spire  rose  dimly  in  the  gray  dawn,  speak- 
ing to  them  silently  and  solemnly  of  both  earth  and 
heaven,  and  awakening  emotions  and  resolves  that 
have  made  the  hero  and  martyr  of  every  age.  "  How 
often  in  that  building/'  says  Bancroft,  u  had  they  with 
renewed  professions  of  their  faith  looked  up  to  God  as 
the  stay  of  their  fathers  and  the  protector  of  their 
privileges.  How  often,  on  that  village  green,  hard  by 
the  burial  place  of  their  forefathers,  had  they  pledged 
themselves  to  each  other  to  combat  manfully  for  their 
birthright  inheritance  of  liberty.  There  they  now 
stood  side  by  side  under  the  Provincial  banner,  with 
arms  in  their  hands,  silent  and  fearless.  The  ground 
on  which  they  stood  was  the  altar  of  freedom,  and 
they  were  to  furnish  its  victims/'  How  often,  he 
might  have  added,  had  they  been  told  from  the  pulpit 
of  that  sacred  building,  that  resistance  to  tyranny  was 
obedience  to  God,  and  that  not  merely  as  freemen  to 
combat  "  for  their  birthright  inheritance  of  liberty," 
but  as  Christians  to  defend  the  altars  of  their  religion, 
they  stood  there  in  stern  and  silent  array.  In  the 
sharp  rattle  of  musketry  that  followed  the  brutal  order, 
"throw  down  your  arms,  and  disperse  !  throw  down 
your  arms,  and  disperse  I"  Mr.  Clark  heard  only  what 
he  knew  would  be  the  result  of  his  own  teachings. 

Still  the  crash  of  the  sudden  volley  sent  a  quick 
keen  pang  through  his  heart  for  it    told  of  death — 


THE    SLAUGHTER.  81 

and  as  the  white  puffs  of  smoke  lifted  in  the  morning 
air,  he  saw  the  green  covered  with  reeling  and  falling 
forms.  Hastening  thither,  after  the  retreat  of  the 
British,  a  sad  sight  met  his  gaze — for  there,  under  the 
windows  of  his  church,  lay  seven  stalwart  men, 
stretched  stark  and  stiff  in  death,  and  many  wounded. 
There  lay  Jonas  Parker,  the  strongest  wrestler  in  Lex- 
ington, pierced  with  both  ball  and  bayonet.  In  the 
morning  he  had  sworn  never  to  run  from  British 
troops,  and  he  had  kept  his  word,  falling  on  the  very 
spot  where  he  had  taken  post  at  the  beat  of  the  drum. 
There,  too,  lay  old  Caleb  Monroe,  his  gray  hairs  dab- 
bled in  blood,  and  near  by  Caleb  Harrington,  fallen  on 
the  door-steps  of  the  house  of  God,  into  which  he  had 
gone  for  powder,  and  beside  them  other  well-known 
forms. 

The  bright  spring  morning  broke  tranquilly  over  this 
sad  scene — the  dew-drops  glittered  beside  the  red  stains 
that  sprinkled  the  starting  grass — the  birds  came  out  and 
sang  upon  the  budding  trees,  and  nature  gave  no  token 
of  the  bloody  murder  that  had  just  been  committed. 
Clark  gazed  long  and  earnestly  on  this  tragic  spectacle, 
but  no  tear  of  regret  mingled  with  those  of  sympathy 
which  he  shed.  Those  lifeless  forms  before  him  were 
holy  martyrs  in  his  sight,  the  first  precious  sacrifices 
laid  upon  the  altar  of  his  country,  which  was  yet  to 
groan  under  its  load  of  victims.  He  had  no  misgiv- 
ings, for  "from  this  day,"  said  he,  "will  be  dated  the 
liberty  of  the  world"  No  sound  broke  the  stillness  of 
the  scene,  but  he  heard  far  up  in  the  dome  of  the  uni- 
verse a  bell  tolling  the  knell  of  tyranny. 

4* 


82  JONAS     CLARK. 

A  feeling  of  exultation  filled  liis  bosom  in  spite  of 
his  sympathetic  grief  ;  for,  while  he  was  looking  at  the 
militia  formed  in  a  body  upon  the  crimsoned  grass, 
they  "  fired  a  volley  and  gave  three  cheers/' he  says, 
"by  way  of  triumph,  and  as  an  expression  of  the  joy 
cf  victory  and  the  glory  of  the  conquest/' 

Notwithstanding  his  dead  and  dying  parishioners 
lay  around  him,  his  patriotic  heart  leaped  to  that 
shout,  for  it  was  prophetic. 

He  lived  to  see  his  predictions  prove  true.  Through 
all  the  long  struggle  that  followed  his  interest  in  it 
never  suffered  a  moment's  abatement,  and  his  faith  in 
ultimate  success  never  wavered.  He  believed  the  war 
to  be  as  just  a  one  as  ever  was  waged  by  the  Israelites 
of  old,  and  as  much  under  the  direction  of  God,  hence 
there  was  no  room  in  his  heart  for  doubt. 

After  the  Revolution  he  lived  a  quiet,  honored  and 
useful  life  up  to  its  very  close,  in  1805.  He  enjoyed 
almost  uninterrupted  health  until  a  few  weeks  before 
his  death,  when  he  was  seized  with  the  dropsy,  which 
suddenly  terminated  his  career  in  his  seventy-sixth 
year. 

The  teachings  of  the  pulpit  of  Lexington  caused  the 
first  blow  to  be  struck  for  American  Independence. 


CHAPTER     VII. 

JACOB   DUCHk 

Opens  tiie  first  Continental  Congress  wrrn  Prater.— John  Adams'  De- 
scription' of  the  Scene. — His  Patriotic  Sermons. — Gives  his  Pat  as  Chap- 
lain to  the  Families  of  those  slain  in  Battle. — Becomes  alarmed,  and 
turns  against  his  Countrt. — His  insulting  Letter  to  Washington.— 
Flees  the  Countrt. — His  Return  to  Philadelphia,  his  Death.— His 
Character. 

Jacob  Duche,  who  opened  the  old  Continental 
Congress  with  prayer,  and  was  for  a  time,  in  1776,  its 
chaplain,  deserves  a  passing  notice  here  for  the  promi- 
nent figure  he  presents  in  the  opening  scenes  of  the 
great  drama  of  the  Revolution,  though  his  after  career 
consigns  him  to  merited  disgrace. 

He  was  born  in  Philadelphia  in  1738,  and  after 
completing  his  education  in  this  country,  went  to  Eng- 
land to  receive  orders.  On  his  return  he  became  a  rec- 
tor in  his  native  city.  He  early  showed  a  literary  turn, 
and  in  1771  published  a  volume  of  letters  relating 
chiefly  to  English  politics. 

John  Adams,  in  a  letter  to  his  wife,  dated  Sept. 
16th,  1774,  thus  describes  the  thrilling  incidents  con- 
nected with  the  prayer  he  made  on  the  opening  of  the 
First  Congress. 

"When  Congress  first  met,  Mr.  Cushing  made  a 
motion  that  it  should  be  opened  with  prayer.  This 
was  opposed  by  Mr.  Gay,  of  New  York,  and  Mr.  Rut- 


84  JACOB     DU  CHE. 

ledge,  of  South  Carolina,  because  we  were  so  divided 
in  religious  sentiments — some  Quakers,  some  Anabap- 
tists, some  Presbyterians,  and  some  Congregational- 
ists — that  we  could  not  join  in  the  same  act  of  worship. 
Mr.  Samuel  Adams  arose,  and  said,  '  He  was  no  bigot, 
and  could  hear  a  prayer  from  a  gentleman  of  piety  and 
virtue,  who  was  at  the  same  time  a  friend  to  his  coun- 
1  ry.  He  was  a  stranger  in  Philadelphia,  but  had  heard 
that  Mr.  Duche  (Dushay  they  pronounce  it)  deserved 
that  character,  and  he  therefore  moved  that  Mr.  Duche, 
an  Episcopal  clergyman,  might  be  desired  to  read 
prayers  to  the  Congress  to-morrow  morning/  The 
motion  was  seconded,  and  passed  in  the  affirmative. 
Mr.  Eandolph,  our  President,  waited  on  Mr.  Duche, 
and  received  for  answer  that  if  his  health  would  per- 
mit he  certainly  would.  Accordingly  he  appeared 
next  morning  with  his  clerk  and  in  his  pontifical,  and 
read  several  prayers  in  the  established  form,  and  then 
read  the  Collect  for  the  7th  day  of  September,  which 
was  the  thirty-fifth  Psalm.  You  must  remember  this 
wras  the  next  morning  after  we  heard  the  terrible  rumor 
of  the  cannonading  of  Boston.  I  never  saw  greater 
effect  upon  an  audience.  It  seemed  as  if  Heaven  had 
ordained  that  Psalm  to  be  read  on  that  morning.  After 
this,  Mr.  Duche,  very  unexpectedly  to  every  body,  struck 
out  into  an  extemporary  prayer,  which  filled  the  bosom 
of  every  man  present.  I  must  confess  I  never  heard  a 
better  prayer  or  one  so  well  pronounced.  Episcopalian 
as  he  is,  Dr.  Cooper  never  prayed  with  such  ardor, 
such  earnestness  and  pathos,  and  in  language  so  elo- 
quent and  sublime  for  America,  for  Congress,  for  the 


JOHN    ADAMS'     DESCRIPTION.  85 

provinces  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  and  especially  the 
town  of  Boston.  It  has  had  an  excellent  effect  upon 
every  body  here.    I  must  beg  you  to  read  that  Psalm/' 

No  wonder  the  effect  was  great.  With  the  echoes 
of  British  cannon  still  lingering  in  their  cars — solemn 
in  viewr  of  the  mighty  work  they  had  undertaken, 
gloomy  with  the  dark  and  bloody  future  that  stretched 
out  before  them,  the  deliberate,  earnest  petition, 
"  Plead  my  cause,  0  Lord,  with  them  that  strive  with 
me  ;  fight  against  them  that  fight  against  me  ;  take 
hold  of  shield  and  buckler,  and  stand  up  for  my  help  ; 
draw  out  also  the  spear,  and  stop  the  wray  against 
them/'  must  have  fallen  with  startling  significance 
upon  their  ears.  The  deep  silence,  the  excited,  trem- 
ulous tone,  the  circumstances  all  combined  to  make  it 
appear  like  a  voice  from  Heaven.  No  wonder,  either, 
that  Mr.  Duche,  under  the  solemn  influences  of  the 
scene,  broke  forth  in  an  ex  tempore  prayer,  and  poured 
out  his  heart  in  strong,  earnest,  natural  language  to 
the  great  Lord  of  all.  In  such  hours  of  peril  and 
conscious  weakness,  the  prayer  for  help  from  on  high 
has  a  meaning  and  power  in  it  unfelt  in  times  of  pros- 
perity. 

In  the  fervor  of  the  moment  he  exclaimed  :  u  0  Lord, 
our  Heavenly  Father,  high  and  mighty,  King  of  kings 
and  Lord  of  lords,  who  dost  from  thy  throne  behold 
all  the  dwellers  on  earth,  and  reignest  with  power  su- 
preme and  uncontrolled  over  all  kingdoms,  empires, 
and  governments,  look  down,  Ave  beseech  thee,  on  these 
our  American  States,  who  have  fled  to  thee  from  the 
rod  of  the  oppressor,  and  thrown  themselves  on  thy 


86  JACOB    DU  CHE. 

gracious  protection,  desiring  henceforth  to  be  depen- 
dent only  on  thee — to  thee  have  they  appealed  for  the 
righteousness  of  their  cause — to  thee  do  they  now  look 
up  for  that  countenance  and  support  which  thou  alone 
canst  give.  Take  them,  therefore,  Heavenly  Father, 
under  thy  nurturing  care,  give  them  wisdom  in  council, 
and  valor  in  the  field.  Defeat  the  malicious  designs 
of  our  cruel  adversaries.  Convince  them  of  the  un- 
righteousness of  their  cause,  and  if  they  still  persist  in 
their  sanguinary  purpose,  0  let  the  voice  of  thine  own 
unerring  justice  sounding  in  their  hearts  constrain 
them  to  drop  the  weapons  of  war  from  their  unnerved 
hands  in  the  day  of  battle.  Be  thou  present,  0  God 
of  wisdom,  and  direct  the  councils  of  this  honorable 
Assembly.  Enable  them  to  settle  things  on  the  best 
and  surest  foundation,  that  the  scene  of  blood  may  be 
speedily  closed — that  order,  harmony,  and  peace  may 
be  effectually  restored,  and  truth  and  justice,  religion 
and  piety  may  prevail  and  flourish  amongst  thy  people. 
Preserve  the  health  of  their  bodies  and  the  vigor  of 
their  minds.  Shower  on  them  and  the  millions  they 
here  represent  such  temporal  blessings  as  thou  seeest 
expedient  for  them  in  this  world,  and  crown  them  with 
everlasting  glory  in  the  world  to  come.  All  this  we 
ask  in  the  name  and  through  the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ 
thy  Son,  our  Saviour.     Amen/' 

On  the  fast  day  appointed  by  Congress  he  preached 
before  it  a  patriotic  sermon.  On  the  7th  of  July,  1775, 
he  preached  to  the  First  Battalion  of  the  city,  from  the 
text :  "  Stand  fast,  therefore,  in  the  liberty  wherewith 
Christ  hath  made  us  free."   In  this  sennou  he  exhorted 


INSULTING    LETTER.  87 

the  soldiers  to  stand  fast  in  their  assertion  of  rights, 
and  act  like  independent  freemen,  putting  their  trust 
in  God,  who  would  assuredly  deliver  them  from  the 
hand  of  the  oppressor. 

There  was  not  a  clergyman  in  the  land,  who  at  this 
time  held  so  prominent  a  position  in  the  cause  of  liberty 
as  he.  Not  only  did  he  give  his  prayers,  and  lend  his 
eloquence  to  the  cause  of  the  Colonies,  but  the  pay  voted 
him  by  Congress,  for  his  services  as  chaplain,  he  gener- 
ously gave  to  the  families  of  the  patriots  slain  in  battle. 

At  this  time  he  wras  the  last  man  any  one  would 
have  selected  as  likely  to  turn  recreant  to  his  country. 
But  the  successive  disasters  that  overtook  the  Ameri- 
can army  after  the  battle  of  Long  Island,  seemed  to 
fill  him  with  dismay  ;  and  when  Philadelphia  finally 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  British,  he  lost  all  hope,  and 
in  a  moment  of  weakness  and  timidity,  presumed  to 
address  Washington  a  letter,  in  which  he  speaks  with 
an  insolence  about  Congress  and  the  army,  that  does 
little  credit  to  his  head  or  heart.  He  urges  him,  with 
a  cool  effrontery,  to  abandon  the  American  cause,  and 
resign  his  command  of  the  army,  or  at  the  head  of  it 
to  force  Congress  immediately  to  desist  from  hostili- 
ties, and  to  rescind  their  declaration  of  independence. 
"  If  this  is  not  done/'  he  says,  "  you  have  an  infallible 
resource  still  left — negotiate  for  America  at  the  head 
of  your  army!'  He  describes  Congress  as  composed 
of  weak,  obscure  men — speaks  contemptuously  of  tho 
New  England  delegates — says  the  officers  are  destitute 
of  principle  and  courage,  unfit  to  occupy  a  seat  at  his 
excellency's  table,  etc.,  etc. 


88  JACOB    DU  CHE. 

One  can  imagine  the  astonishment  of  Washington 
at  this  deliberate  attempt  of  a  clergyman — one,  too, 
who  had  been  so  loud  in  his  patriotism — to  make  him 
perjure  himself  before  the  world,  and  trample  under 
foot  the  very  Congress  from  which  he  held  his  commis- 
sion. He  told  Mr.  Ferguson,  the  bearer  of  the  letter, 
to  inform  Mr.  Duche  that,  had  he  been  aware  of  its 
contents,  he  should  have  returned  it  unopened  ;  but, 
having  read  it,  he  felt  it  his  duty  to  lay  it  before  Con- 
gress, that  they  might  be  aware  of  the  sentiments  of 
the  man  they  had  honored  with  their  confidence. 
Francis  Hopkinson,  a  brother-in-law  of  Duche,  replied 
to  this  letter  with  a  j30wer  and  pungency  that  left  the 
traitorous  chaplain  in  a  most  unenviable  position. 

This  desertion  of  his  country,  and  nefarious  attempt 
to  corrupt  Washington,  made  it  dangerous  for  him 
to  remain  in  his  native  city,  and  he  fled  to  England. 

In  1730  he  returned  to  Philadelphia,  where  he  died 
four  years  after.  Of  a  brilliant  imagination  and  im- 
pulsive nature,  he  yet  lacked  the  stern  integrity  and 
high  courage  of  a  true  man,  and  in  an  evil  hour  took 
counsel  of  his  fears,  and  for  ever  tainted  a  reputation 
that  otherwise  would  have  shone  with  brilliant  luster. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

SAMUEL   SPRING,  D.D. 

His  Eaely  Lite.— Becomes  Chaplain  in  the  Army. — The  only  Chaplain  in 
Arnold's  Expedition  across  the  Northern  Wilderness. — His  Description 
op  its  Formation. — Preaches  at  Newbueyport  to  the  Army. — Visits  the 
Tomb  of  Whitfield. — Description  ok  the  March  through  the  Wilder- 
ness.— His  Sufferings  and  Labors. — Famine. — His  Description  of  shoot- 
ing a  Moose.— His  Labors  at  Point  aux  Tremble.— Storming  of  Quebec. — 
IJe  leads  Arnold  out  of  the  Fight. — Leaves  the  Army. — Settled  at 
Newburyport. — His  Interview  with  Aaron  Burr. — His  Death. 

Chaplains  are  usually  regarded  as  mere  adjuncts 
of  an  army,  not  expected  to  share  the  perils  and  suf- 
ferings of  the  common  soldier,  and  in  ordinary  wars 
they  do  not,  except  to  a  limited  extent ;  but  in  the 
Revolutionary  war  it  was  not  so.  The  unparalleled 
sufferings  which  the  American  army  was  compelled  to 
undergo,  the  chaplains  submitted  to  with  cheerfulness, 
and  in  many  cases  were  found  in  the  thickest  of  the 
light,  steadying  and  encouraging  the  men.  Thus  we 
find  them  hutted  at  Valley  Forge — facing  the  storm 
in  the  wintry  march  on  Trenton,  covered  with  the 
smoke  of  the  conflict  at  Bennington,  standing  under 
the  enemy's  fire  at  Yorktown,  and  attached  to  every 
expedition,  no  matter  how  hazardous  or  exhausting, 
that  was  set  on  foot. 

In  the  fight  at  Lexington,  we  have  seen  the  pastor 
of  the  church  on  the  green  where  the  first  blood  flowed, 
encouraging  his  parishioners  to  resist,  and  three  clergy- 
men handling  the  musket  like  common  soldiers.     So 


90  SAMUEL     SPRING,    D.D. 

in  that  marvellous  expedition  of  Arnold's,  through  the 
northern  wilderness  to  Quebec,  so  fraught  with  peril 
and  hardships  that  none  but  volunteers  were  asked  to 
form  it,  we  find  a  chaplain  sharing  its  vicissitudes  and 
sufferings. 

Samuel  Spring  was  born  at  Northbridge,  Mass., 
February  27th,  1746.  His  father  was  a  farmer,  and 
wished  the  stout  lad  to  stay  and  assist  him  on  the 
farm;  but  the  latter  was  determined  to  obtain  an 
education,  and  having  at  length  received  the  parental 
consent,  commenced  his  studies,  and  in  time  entered 
the  College  of  New  Jersey.  He  was  not  a  professing 
Christian  at  that  period,  but,  while  in  college,  had  his 
mind  directed  to  the  subject  of  religion  by  a  singular 
incident.  The  character  of  the  Deity  as  shown  in  his 
works,  especially  in  the  external  universe,  had  often 
impressed  him  profoundly,  and  he  was  selected  by  his 
class,  on  a  certain  occasion,  to  explain  and  defend  the 
Copernican  system.  In  doing  this,  his  mind  became 
so  overwhelmed  by  the  vastness  of  the  theme,  and  the 
greatness  and  majesty  of  God,  the  Creator  and  sov- 
ereign Kuler  of  the  universe,  that  he  suddenly  stopped 
awe-struck,  and  bursting  into  tears  sat  down.  He 
graduated  in  1771,  and  entered  at  once  upon  his  theo- 
logical studies.  He  was  licensed  to  preach  in  1774, 
and  the  next  year,  fired  with  the  patriotism  that  drew 
such  a  host  of  God-fearing  men  into  the  struggle  of 
the  Colonies,  hastened  to  Boston,  and  offered  his  ser- 
vices as  chaplain.  In  the  fall  he  accompanied  Arnold 
in  his  inarch  through  the  wilderness,  the  only  chaplain 
attached  to  the  perilous  expedition. 


ARNOLD'S     EXPEDITION.  91 

He  thus  describes  the  manner  in  which  it  was 
formed  :°  u  Congress  had  in  secret  session  decided  upon 
an  expedition  for  the  conquest  of  Quebec.  General 
Arnold,  as  its  commander-in-chief,  with  his  orders  in 
his  pocket,  was  directed  to  Dorchester  Heights,  to  select 
his  troops  from  the  main  Continental  army  then  in 
camp  in  that  place.  It  was  in  the  gray  of  the  morn- 
ing. The  drum  beat  in  every  regiment  for  an  instant, 
and  general  parade  of  the  whole  army,  as  for  review, 
was  ordered.  All  was  bustle.  In  a  very  brief  space 
the  whole  army  was  paraded  in  continued  line  of  com- 
panies. With  one  continued  roll  of  drums  the  general- 
in-chief  with  his  staff  passed  along  the  whole  line — 
regiment  after  regiment  presenting  arms.  Then  came 
the  order,  '  Officers,  to  the  front  ten  paces — march  !  ■ 
then,  in  quick  succession, ?  Officers,  to  the  center — face  ! 
Officers,  to  the  center — march  !  Form  hollow  square  !' 
Arrived  at  the  center,  and  the  square  formed,  the 
secret  orders  of  Congress  were  read.  The  regiments 
were  designated.  It  was  a  perilous  service,  and  not 
compulsory  upon  the  officers.  Volunteers  were  called 
for.  Not  one  but  when  the  order  came,  l  Volunteers, 
step  one  step  in  advance  I'  but  took  that  step." 

Among  those  who  took  that  step  was  the  young 
chaplain.  Thirty  years  of  age,  over  six  feet  high,  and 
finely  proportioned,  he  towered  like  a  young  giant  over 
the  troops.  The  force  was  to  march  to  Newburyport, 
and  there  embark  in  boats  for  the  mouth  of  the  Ken- 
nebec, where  two  hundred  bateaux  had  been  collected, 

*  I  am  indebted  for  this  and  other  incidents  to  a -member  of  hia 
family. 


92  SAMUEL     SPRING,    D.D. 

to  carry  the  troops,  provisions,  etc.  Arriving  at  this 
place  in  the  latter  part  of  the  week,  the  army  remained 
there  over  the  Sabbath,  which  gave  the  chaplain  a  good 
opportunity  to  commence  his  official  duties,  and  he 
preached  to  the  troops  in  one  of  the  churches  of  the 
place. 

He  thus  graphically  describes  the  circumstances 
attending  this  interesting  event  :  "  On  the  Sabbath 
morning  the  officers  and  as  many  of  the  soldiers  as 
could  be  crowded  on  to  the  floor  of  the  house,  were 
marched  into  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  Federal 
street.  They  marched  in  with  colors  flying,  and 
drums  beating,  and  formed  two  lines,  through  which  I 
passed— they  presenting  arms  and  the  drums  rolling, 
until  I  was  seated  in  the  pulpit.  Then  the  soldiers 
stacked  their  arms  all  over  the  aisles,  and  I  preached 
to  the  army  and  to  the  citizens,  wTho  crowded  the  gal- 
leries, from  this  text  :  c  If  thy  spirit  go  not  with  us, 
carry  us  not  up  hence/  " 

He  spoke  without  notes,  yet  there  was  no  hesitation 
in  the  choice  of  words  or  in  his  manner,  but  the  stream 
of  his  eloquence  rolled  on  unchecked  to  the  close.  His 
commanding  figure,  clear,  distinct  utterance,  animated 
gestures,  and  earnest  expression,  riveted  every  eye  upon 
him  ;  while  the  subject  of  his  discourse — the  marvel- 
lous and  daring  expedition,  on  which  they  were  about 
to  set  forth — enlisted  every  faculty  of  his  hearers,  and 
the  profoundest  silence  rested  on  the  audience,  filling 
the  remotest  corners  of  the  closely  packed  building. 

There  sat  the  fearless  Arnold,  the  bold  rifleman, 
Morgan,  and  a  host  of  other  brave  men,  wdio,  notwith- 


TOMB     OF     WHITFIELD.  03 

standing  their  dauntless  courage,  felt  that  the  perils  of 
the  untrodden,  mysterious  wilderness,  they  were  about 
to  penetrate,  might  be  too  great  for  human  energy  and 
endurance,  and  the  hour  come,  that  their  only  hope 
would  rest  in  the  God  whose  spirit  the  chaplain  in- 
voked as  their  guide  and  stay.  The  citizens,  who 
crowded  the  gallery,  never  forgot  that  sermon.  It  be- 
came the  talk  of  the  place,  and  was  the  cause  of  his 
eventually  settling  over  them  as  their  pastor.  In 
speaking  of  the  circumstance  afterwards  Mr.  Spring 
said,  "  I  preached  over  the  grave  of  Whitfield.  After 
the  service  the  general  officers  gathered  around  me. 
Some  one  requested  a  visit  to  "Whitfield's  tomb.  The 
sexton  was  hunted  up,  the  key  procured,  and  we  de- 
scended to  his  coffin.  It  had  lain  in  the  tomb  six 
years,  but  was  in  good  preservation.'  The  officers 
induced  the  sexton  to  take  off  the  lid  of  the  coffin. 
The  body  had  nearly  all  returned  to  dust.  Some  por- 
tions of  his  grave-clothes  remained.  His  collar  and 
wristbands,  in  the  best  preservation,  were  taken  and 
carefully  cut  in  little  pieces,  and  divided  among  them." 
The  chaplain,  with  the  haughty  Arnold,  the  chivalrous 
Morgan,  and  group  of  officers,  gathered  in  the  dark 
vault  around  the  tomb  of  Whitfield,  formed  a  scene 
worthy  of  a  painter.  The  clank  of  steel  had  a  strange 
sound  around  the  sainted  sleeper,  while  the  hallowed 
atmosphere  filled  all  hearts  with  solemn  awe  and  reve- 
rence. 

At  length  every  thing  being  ready,  the  army  of 
eleven  hundred  men  took  its  departure,  and  arriv- 
ing  at    the   mouth  of  the    Kennebec,  unmoored  the 


94  SAMUEL     SPRING,    D.D. 

two  hundred  boats,  and  began  slowly  to  ascend  the 
stream.  Morgan  led  the  advance  guard,  and  having 
reached  Norridgcwock  Falls,  halted  to  await  the  ar- 
rival of  Arnold.  Here  the  river  was  so  broken  into 
rapids  that  it  was  necessary  to  carry  all  the  boats  and 
baggage  and  artillery  a  mile  and  a  quarter  through 
the  woods.  First  the  bushes  had  to  be  hewn  away, 
and  the  trees  cut  down,  to  make  a  jiassage  ;  then  the 
boats  to  be  hoisted  upon  men's  shoulders,  and  placed 
on  sleds,  and  carried  forward  ;  and  finally  all  the  bag- 
gage, ammunition,  and  stores  dragged  across.  In  the 
meantime  the  boats  had  sprung  aleak,  and  between  re- 
pairing them  and  transporting  the  materials  of  war  it 
took  seven  days  to  go  this  mile  and  a  quarter.  The 
boats  were  finally  launched  again,  while  the  soldiers 
took  to  the  water,  and  nearly  to  their  armpits  slowly 
shoved  them  against  the  rapid  current.  At  night  they 
would  tie  up,  and  kindling  a  blazing  fire  in  the  forest, 
lie  down  to  rest.  At  some  of  the  carrying  places  the 
boats  had  to  be  dragged  up  precipices,  at  others  borne 
on  men's  shoulders  through  the  swamps.  The  young 
chaplain  gazed  on  this  struggling  army,  swallowed  up 
in  the  wilderness,  with  strange  emotions.  Though 
wading  the  streams  and  swamps,  and  climbing  the  rocks 
like  the  meanest  soldier,  he  would  often  pause  in  his 
toil  to  watch  the  novel  spectacle.  The  October  frosts 
soon  set  in,  and  all  the  autumnal  glories  of  our  high 
latitudes  were  spread  upon  the  forest.  The  dark  fir 
trees  of  the  low  grounds  retained  their  sombre  hue, 
but  the  undergrowth  of  bushes  made  a  flooring  of  gold 
beneath.     The   tall   pine    tree  lifted  its  green   crown 


DESCRIPTION     OF     TIIE     MARCH.  95 

from  the  lofty  ridges,  while  farther  down,  along  the 
vast  slopes,  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow  were  spread 
in  endless  profusion.  The  scene  at  night  was  pictur- 
esque in  the  extreme.  Huge  fires  blazed  through  the 
forest  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  while  the  tall  trees 
receded  away  in  the  gloom,  like  the  columns  of  some 
vast  cathedral,  amid  which  the  slumbering  host  lay  in 
deep  and  silent  repose.  The  moonbeams  stole  dimly 
through  the  fretted  arches  above  them,  and  the  rapidly 
flowing  stream  seemed  chanting  a  low  anthem  to  the 
solitude.  But  the  first  blast  of  the  bugle  in  the  morn- 
ing, sending  its  loud  notes  far  through  the  forest, 
stirred  this  deep  repose  as  by  magic  —  the  silent 
woods  witnessed  a  sudden  resurrection,  and  soon  all 
was  bustle  and  confusion.  The  bright  October  days 
and  bracing  autumnal  air  made  the  toilsome  march  at 
first  comparatively  cheerful ;  but  the  long,  drenching 
rains  of  November  told  sadly  on  the  troops,  and  soon 
the  army  was  burdened  with  the  sick.  To  visit  these, 
and  give  spiritual  advice  and  comfort,  and  encourage 
those  who  in  their  weakness  and  despondency  felt  that 
they  should  leave  their  bones  in  the  wilderness,  took 
up  much  of  Mr.  Spring's  time,  and  made  his  duties  by 
no  means  the  least  onerous,  where  the  severest  toil  was 
the  lot  of  every  one. 

It  was  pleasant  to  see  the  devotion  of  the  soldiers  to 
their  young  chaplain.  Cheerfully  sharing  all  their 
privations  and  hardships  he  became  endeared  to  them, 
and  when  Sunday  came,  they  would  pile  together 
their  knapsacks,  tier  upon  tier,  for  a  pulpit,  on  which 
an  orderly  would  help  him  mount,  while  they  gath- 


96  SAMUEL     SPRING,    D.  D. 

creel  round  to  listen,  forming  a  strange  congregation 
in  a  strange  temple. 

Standing  thus  in  nature's  great  cathedral,  he  would 
deliver  the  messages  of  salvation  to  his  hearers,  send- 
ing his  voice  through  the  solitude,  and  reminding  one 
of  him  who  styled  himself  "  the  voice  of  one  crying 
in  the  wilderness." 

At  length  pro  visions  began  to  grow  scarce,  and  every 
one  had  to  be  put  on  short  allowance.  M(  Spring 
took  his  three  quarters  of  a  pound  of  pork  per  day 
cheerfully  with  the  rest. 

After  incredible  hardships,  and  the  loss  of  a  hundred 
and  fifty  men,  by  sickness  and  desertion,  the  army  at 
last  reached  the  great  carrying  place,  fifteen  miles 
long,  extending  from  the  Kennebec  to  the  Dead  River. 
Only  three  small  ponds  occurred  the  whole  distance, 
on  which  the  boats  could  be  launched.  The  rest  of 
the  way  they  and  the  provisions,  ammunitions,  etc., 
had  to  be  carried  on  men's  shoulders.  This  was  a 
terrific  strain  on  the  army,  and  the  dispiriting  ef- 
fect upon  the  soldiers  was  not  relieved  by  the  appear- 
ance of  the  Dead  River,  when  they  reached  it,  for  it 
moved  sluggish  and  dark  like  the  waters  of  oblivion 
through  the  silent  and  motionless  forest.  Day 
after  day  they  toiled  up  this  sluggish  stream,  be- 
tween the  monotonous  walls  of  forest  that  lined  its 
banks,  until  it  seemed  as  if  there  was  no  outlet  or 
opening  to  the  apparently  interminable  wilderness. 
At  every  bend,  the  eye  strained  forward  to  catch 
some  indication  of  change,  and  when  at  last  they  came 
in  sight  of  a  snow-covered  mountain  in  the  distance, 


MARCH  THROUGH  THE  WILDERNESS.    07 

telling  them  there  was  an  outer  world  after  all,  the 
men  sent  up  a  shout  that  woke  the  echoes  far  and 
wide. 

Near  its  base  they  encamped  three  days,  and 
Spring  spent  most  of  the  time  in  visiting  the  sick,  and 
praying  with  them.  The  army  had  scarcely  got  under 
way  again,  when  the  heavens  became  overcast  ;  dark 
and  angry  clouds  swept  the  heavens,  and  the  heavy 
winds  sobbed  and  moaned  through  the  forest.  Soon 
the  rain  came  down  in  torrents.  Side  by  side  with 
the  drenched  soldier  the  tall  chaplain  trudged  uncom- 
plainingly on,  and  lay  down  like  him  on  the  wet 
ground  at  night.  It  poured  without  cessation  for 
three  days,  shedding  still  deeper  gloom  over  the  army. 
The  river  rose  steadily  the  whole  time,  till  the  sluggish 
current  at  length  swept  down  with  such  velocity  and 
power  that  the  boats  could  with  difficulty  stem  it.  On  the 
third  night,  just  as  the  soldiers  had  lain  down  to  rest, 
after  having  kindled  a  huge  fire,  Mr.  Spring  heard  a  roar 
in  the  forest  above  them  like  the  sound  of  the  surf  beat- 
ing upon  the  shore,  and  the  next  moment  the  glancing 
waters  were  seen  sweeping  through  the  trees  on  both 
sides  of  the  stream.  In  an  instant  the  camp  was 
alive  with  shouts  and  cries  rising  above  the  turbulent 
flood  that  deluged  the  ground  on  wdiich  they  stood. 
The  fires  were  extinguished,  and  in  the  tumult,  and 
confusion,  and  darkness,  no  one  knew  which  way  to 
flee  for  safety,  or  what  to  do.  In  this  state  of  uncer- 
tainty and  dread  the  night  wore  away.  The  daylight 
revealed  to  them  a  spectacle  sad  enough  to  fill  the 
bravest  heart  with  discouragement.     Boats  had  drifted 

5 


98  SAMUEL     SPRING,    D.D. 

into  the  forest,  and  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  tho 
level  ground  was  one  broad  lake,  out  of  which  arose 
the  dark  stems  of  the  trees  like  an  endless  succession 
of  columns.  In  nine  hours  the  water  rose  eight  feet, 
totally  obliterating  the  shores  of  Dead  Eiver. 

But  the  provisions  were  getting  lower  and  lower, 
and  Arnold  could  not  wait  for  the  river  to  subside. 
The  army  was,  therefore,  pushed  on,  slowly  stemming 
the  flood  ;  but,  seven  boats,  carrying  provisions,  were 
caught  in  the  whirling,  angry  waters,  and  upset,  and 
all  their  contents  destroyed. 

The  boldest  now  paused  in  dismay,  for  only  twelve 
days'  provisions  remained,  while  thirty  miles  across 
the  mountain  were  to  be  traversed  before  they  could 
reach  the  head  waters  of  the  Chaudiere,  that  flowed 
into  the  St.  Lawrence.  A  council  of  war  was  called 
to  decide  what  should  be  done  in  this  crisis  of  af- 
fairs. They  had  now  been  a  month  away  from  civil- 
ization, the  sick  were  increasing,  while  famine  was 
staring  them  in  the  face.     It  was  determined  at  length 

o  o 

to  leave  the  sick  there,  and  despatch  orders  to  Colonels 
Green  and  Knox,  in  the  rear,  to  hasten  up,  and  take 
them  back  to  Cambridge. 

Here  was  an  opportunity  for  the  young  chaplain  to 
abandon  the  expedition,  and  yet  apparently  be  in  the 
path  of  duty.  lie  had  had  enough,  one  would  think, 
of  toil,  exposure  and  suffering,  not  to  wish  to  face  still 
greater  hardships,  and  perhaps  death  itself,  by  famine 
in  the  wilderness,  he  following  its  fortunes.  But 
he  believed  the  welfare  of  his  country  was  deeply  in- 
volved in  its   fate,   and    he   determined,   come   what 


HIS     SUFFERINGS     AND     LABOR.  99 

would,  to  share  its  vicissitudes,  hazards  and  destiny. 
Having,  therefore,  prayed  with  the  sick,  encouraged 
the  desponding  with  the  promise  that  relief  would  soon4 
come,  and  pointed  those,  whom  he  believed  dying,  to 
the  Saviour  of  men,  and  commended  all  to  the  care  and 
mercy  of  God,  he  bade  them  farewell,  and  moved  for- 
ward with  the  advancing  column. 

The  cold,  autumnal  rains  had  now  turned  into  snow, 
which  sifting  down  through  the  leafless  tree-tops,  cov- 
ered the  weary,  wan  and  straggling  column  with  a 
winding-sheet,  that  seemed  to  be  wrapping  it  for  the 
tomb.  After  they  left  the  sick  in  the  wilderness  they 
passed  seventeen  falls,  before  they  reached  the  head- 
waters of  Dead  Eiver.  It  was  still  four  miles  across 
to  the  Chaudiere,  down  which  they  were  to  float  to  the 
St.  Lawrence. 

Here,  on  the  summit  of  the  hills  on  which  the  wa- 
ters divide,  one  part  flowing  south  and  the  other  north, 
Arnold  distributed  the  last  provisions  to  the  separate 
companies,  and  taking  only  thirteen  men,  pushed  on 
for  the  Chaudiere.  He  told  those  left  behind,  in  part- 
ing, that  he  would  obtain  provisions  for  them  in  ad- 
vance, if  human  efforts  could  procure  them  ;  but 
directed  them  to  follow  after  as  fast  as  they  could, 
for,  he  added,  their  only  safety  lay  in  advancing. 
Spring  remained  behind  with  the  army,  to  share  its 
privations  and  its  fate,  whatever  that  might  be.  The 
gallant  fellows  gave  their  indomitable  leader  three 
parting  cheers,  and  then  began  to  heave  their  heavy 
boats  from  the  water.  Hoisting  them  upon  their 
shoulders,  while  others  were  loaded  down  with  baggage 


100  SAMUEL     SPUING,    D.D. 

and  ammunition,  and  others  still  dragged  the  few  pieces 
of  artillery  along  like  cattle,  they  staggered  on  through 
the  forest.  The  scanty  provisions  that  were  left  them, 
though  eked  out  with  the  greatest  parsimony,  grew 
rapidly  less,  and  finally  failed  entirely.  Under  the 
low  rations  and  severe  labor  combined,  the  men  had 
gradually  grown  weaker  and  weaker,  and  now,  pale 
and  emaciated,  looked  on  each  other  in  mute  inquiry. 
A  council  of  war  was  called,  and  it  was  determined  to 
kill  the  dogs  they  had  with  them,  and  push  on  till 
this -loathsome  supply  was  exhausted.  These  faithful 
animals,  hitherto  the  companions  of  their  toils,  were 
slain  and  divided  among  the  different  companies. 
After  the  bodies  were  devoured,  their  legs  and  even 
claws  were  boiled  for  soup. 

It  was  a  sad  sight  to  see  the  groups  of  half  famished 
soldiers  seated  together  around  a  fire,  watching  with 
eager  looks  the  pot  containing  this  refuse  of  the  dogs, 
and  gazing  with  strange  meaning  into  each  other's 
eyes.  The  chaplain  fared  like  the  rest,  and  famine 
and  incessant  toil  and  exposure  were  telling  on  him  as 
well  as  on  the  soldiers.  The  tall  frame  grew  less  erect, 
and  the  wan  face  showed  that  starvation  was  eating 
away  his  life.  Trusting  however  in  God,  whom  he 
served,  he  endured  all  cheerfully,  and  bore  that  fam- 
ished multitude  on  his  heart  to  the  throne  of  heavenly 
grace.  The  soldiers,  in  all  their  sufferings,  thought 
of  him  with  the  deepest  sympathy,  and  could  not  but 
feel  encouraged  when  they  saw  his  serene,  though 
rmaciated  countenance,  and  listened  to  his  expressions 
of  calm  confidence  in  God,  that  he  would  yet  deliver 


FAMINE.  101 

them.  He  often  walked  through  the  woods  to  look  at 
the  various  groups,  and  see  where  he  could  be  of  most 
service.  His  heart  bled  at  the  destitution  he  witnessed 
on  every  side.  One  day  he  came  upon  a  company 
gathered  around  a  fire,  boiling  some  clog's  claws  they 
had  preserved  to  make  soup  with.  As  he  paused  to 
look  at  them,  they  rose,  and,  in  true  kindness  of  heart, 
urged  him  to  share  their  meager,  disgusting  broth.  It 
was  a  novel,  but  touching  evidence  of  the  deep  affec- 
tion they  bore  their  young  chaplain,  and  told  in  lan- 
guage stronger  than  words,  what  an  example  of  patient 
endurance  he  had  shown,  and  how  kind  and  faithful 
had  been  his  labors  among  them. 

At  last  the  dogs  gave  out,  and  then  the  soldiers  tore  off 
their  moose  skin  moccasins,  and  boiled  them  to  extract 
a  little  nourishment.  The  feet  could  stand  the  No- 
vember frosts  better  than  their  stomachs  endure  the 
gnawings  of  famine.  They  reached  at  length  the  banks 
of  the  Chaudiere,  and  launched  their  boats.  The  cur- 
rent however  was  swollen  and  rapid — now  boiling  amid 
the  rocks,  and  now  shooting  like  an  arrow  around  a 
jutting  precipice.  On  such  a  turbulent  flood  the  boats 
soon  became  unmanageable,  and  one  after  another  was 
stranded  or  shivered  into  fragments,  till  nearly  all  were 
destroyed. 

They  were  still  thirty  miles  from  the  French  settle- 
ments, and  now  were  compelled  to  shoulder  their  bur- 
dens, and  advance  on  foot,  in  straggling  parties, 
through  the  forest.  During  all  these  perils  and  suffer- 
ings scarce  a  Sabbath  passed  in  which  Spring  did  not 
mount  his  pulpit  of  knapsacks,  and  preach  to  the 


102  SAMUEL 

troops,  while  every  morning,  before  the  inarch  began, 
his  earnest  prayer  arose  to  God  for  help. 

The  last  miserable  substitute  for  food  was  at  length 
exhausted,  and  with  empty  stomachs  and  bowed  forms 
they  slowly,  despairingly  toiled  onward,  while  all  along 
their  track,  the  snow  was  stained  with  blood.  As  they 
were  now  approaching  the  French  settlements,  severe 
discipline  was  enforced.  They  needed  no  fires  to  cook 
their  food,  for  they  had  none  to  cook  ;  but  none  was 
allowed  them  to  warm  themselves  by,  and  strict  orders 
were  given  not  to  discharge  a  gun  for  any  purpose. 
While  the  weary  column  was  thus  staggering  silently 
on,  suddenly  the  report  of  a  musket  was  heard  far  in 
advance,  then  another,  and  another,  till  twenty  echoed 
through  the  forest.  They  ceased,  and  then  a  long 
shout  rolled  back  through  the  solitude,  producing  the 
wildest  excitement.  Mr.  Spring  never  forgot  that 
thrilling  scene,  and  long  after,  in  speaking  of  it,  said  : 
H  The  army  was  starving,  but  moving  on.  The  pio- 
neers, who  were  ahead  to  clear  the  way,  roused  sud- 
denly a  noble  moose.  It  was  the  first  that  had  been 
seen.  The  temptation  was  too  strong  to  be  resisted. 
One  man  fired — he  missed.  Twenty  guns  were  leveled 
at  him.  He  fell  —  they  forgot  all  discipline  in  their 
extremity,  and  shouted.  It  was  a  noble  moose,  weigh" 
ing  not  less  than  a  thousand  pounds.  A  halt  was  or' 
ditted  —  camp  kettles  taken  out,  fires  kindled,  meat, 
blood,  entrads,  hoofs  and  horns  chopped  up,  and  soup 
made  of  all  for  the  army.9* 

Eevivcd    by    this    unexpected   supply,    the    troops 
pushed  on.     The  next  day  they  met  a  company  of 


POINT     AUX     TREMBLES.  103 

men  with  provisions,  sent  back  by  Arnold  to  relieve 
them.  A  loud  shout  arose  from  the  whole  army,  and 
a  general  feast  was  ordered.  Several  of  the  soldiers, 
unable  to  restrain  their  appetites,  eat  so  voraciously 
that  they  sickened  and  died.  They  had  braved  the 
wilderness,  and  withstood  the  ravages  of  famine,  to 
fall  victims  to  unrestrained  indulgence.  It  was  with 
profound  sadness  the  young  chaplain  performed  the 
last  religious  rites  over  their  rude  graves  in  the 
northern  wilderness. 

The  French  settlements  were  soon  reached,  and  ex- 
ultation and  joyful  anticipation  took  the  place  of 
gloomy  forebodings  and  despair.  The  weary  march, 
the  supperless  bivouacs  and  unparalleled  hardships 
were  now  all  forgotten  in  the  enterprise  before  them, 
and  on  every  side  arose  the  sound  of  preparation.  On 
Sunday,  the  12th  of  November,  they  reached  Point 
Levi,  opposite  Quebec.  They  were  to  cross  the  next 
morning,  and  hence  the  sabbath  was  given  up  to  active 
toil,  and  Spring  saw  how  the  Lord's  day  is  sometimes 
passed  in  camp. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  dwell  here  on  Arnold's  failure 
to  surprise  Quebec,  nor  the  state  of  affairs  that  com- 
pelled him  to  wait  the  arrival  of  Montgomery  from 
Montreal,  before  attempting  to  take  the  place  by  storm. 
He  retreated  between  twenty  and  thirty  miles  to  Point 
&ux  Trembles,  and  pitched  his  camp. 

There  was  a  beautiful  catholic  chapel  here,  which 
Arnold  turned  into  a  hospital  for  the  sick.  On  Sun- 
days it  was  used  by  Spring  as  a  church,  in  which  he 
preached  regularly  to  officers  and  men.     On  these  oc- 


104  SAMUEL     SPRING,    D.  D. 

casions  the  richly  decorated  chapel  presented  a  singular 
spectacle.  In  the  elegant  recesses  and  rooms  adjoining, 
costly  hangings  drooped  amid  elaborate  carvings  and 
gilt  work,  while  all  around  lay  the  sick  Americans,  to 
whom  these  luxuries  seemed  a  dream  after  the  hard- 
ships of  the  wilderness.  The  walls  and  ceilings  were 
lavishly  adorned,  and  the  whole  interior  presented  a 
strange  contrast  to  a  New  England  Meeting-house. 
Yet  here  the  sons  of  the  Puritans  assembled,  and  rev- 
erently listened  to  their  chaplain,  who  preached  a  gos- 
pel that  ha  dnever  before  been  heard  there. 

Montgomery  at  length  arrived,  and  preparations 
were  set  on  foot  for  an  assault  on  Quebec,  and  Sun- 
day, the  last  day  of  December,  was  selected  for  its  execu- 
tion. On  this  morning,  before  daylight,  the  two  gen- 
erals advanced,  cautiously  and  silently,  against  the  two 
points  which  had  been  designated  for  the  attack.  A 
furious  snow-storm  was  raging  at  the  time,  while  snow 
two  feet  deep  obstructed  the  way.  This  was  not  to  be 
a  Sabbath  of  worship,  and  Spring,  anxious  for  the 
result  of  the  contest,  would  not  stay  in  cam}),  but  ad- 
vanced with  the  troops  to  the  walls  of  the  city. 

How  Montgomery  fell,  sword  in  hand,  at  the  head 
of  his  troops,  is  a  matter  of  history.  Arnold,  gal- 
lantly leading  his  men  up  a  narrow  street,  swept  by 
the  enemy's  fire,  received  a  musket-ball  in  his  leg, 
which  brought  him  to  the  ground.  Struggling  up 
from  the  snow,  he  attempted  again  to  move  on,  but 
was  compelled  to  fall  back,  and  yield  the  command  to 
Morgan,  who  fought  like  a  lion  amid  the  storm  and 
darkness.      Every   soldier   was   needed   to   press    the 


SETTLED     AT     NEWBURY  PORT.  105 

assault,  and  Arnold  would  allow  none  to  help  him, 
but  taking  the  arm  of  Ogden,  the  surgeon,  and  Spring, 
his  chaplain,  who  had  rushed  forward  to  his  succor, 
limped  slowly  out  of  the  fire.  They  supported  him 
for  more  than  a  mile  to  the  hospital  in  the  rear,  while 
he,  though  pale  and  faint,  urged  every  soldier  he  en- 
countered on  the  way  to  hasten  forward  to  the  assault. 
At  last,  driven  back  at  every  point,  the  American  army 
retired. 

The  rest  of  the  winter  it  remained  in  camp,  unmo- 
lested by  the  enemy.  Spring  preached  regularly  to  the 
troops  on  Sundays,  and  devoted  his  remaining  time  to 
the  sick  and  wounded.     It  was  a  severe  winter. 

With  the  opening  of  spring,  offensive  operations 
were  recommenced,  but  they  resulted  in  nothing.  In 
the  mean  time,  troops  arrived  from  England — small 
pox  broke  out  in  the  American  camp,  and  one  misfor- 
tune succeeded  another,  till  at  length  the  invading 
army  was  driven  out  of  Canada.  Spring  bore  his  part 
in  all  these  hardships  and  disasters  with  unshaken  for- 
titude. 

After  this,  the  portion  of  the  army  which  had  been 
assigned  for  the  invasion  of  Canada,  was  broken  up, 
and  a  reorganization  took  place.  He,  therefore,  re- 
signed his  commission,  and  accepted  a  call  from  the 
people  of  Newburyport,  who  had  listened  the  year  be- 
fore to  his  eloquent  discourse  on  the  departure  of  the 
expedition  from  that  town.  He  remained  pastor  of 
this  church  for  forty  years,  or  until  his  death,  in  1819. 
Of  his  after  career  of  usefulness,  his  influence  in  estab- 

5* 


106 


lishing  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  or  his  other 
labors,  it  is  not  my  province  to  speak. 

When  an  old  man,  he  was  once  on  a  visit  to  his  son, 
the  present  venerable  Dr.  Spring,  of  New  York,  and 
expressed  a  wish  to  have  an  interview  with  Aaron 
Burr.  The  son  attempted  to  dissuade  him  from  it, 
remarking  that  such  was  Mr.  Burr's  present  character 
and  reputation,  that  he  thought  an  interview  wTould 
not  be  agreeable.  But  the  venerable  man  recalled  to 
mind  the  time  when  he  was  chaplain  in  the  army 
under  Arnold — the  terrible  assault  before  daylight  on 
Quebec — and  the  fact  of  young  Burr  carrying  the 
dying  Montgomery  on  his  back  out  of  the  fight,  and 
still  said  he  wanted  to  see  him.  So  Dr.  Spring  in- 
vited him  to  his  house,  and  the  two  met ;  but  the  con- 
versation soon  passing  from  memories  of  the  past  to 
more  general  topics,  Burr  gave  utterance  to  opinions 
and  sentiments,  so  repulsive  to  the  man  of  God,  that, 
when  the  door  closed  on  the  visitor,  he  remarked  to 
his  son  that  he  never  wished  to  see  him  again. 

He  died  on  the  4th  of  March,  1819,  seventy-three 
years  of  age.  His  closing  hours  were  peaceful,  and 
full  of  calm  confidence  in  his  Saviour,  and  almost  the 
last  words,  that  broke  from  his  aged  lips,  were,  c:  Oh, 
let  me  be  gone — do  let  me  be  gone — I  long  to  be  home." 
While,  as  one  of  the  leaders  in  Israel,  he  occupies  a 
prominent  position  in  the  history  of  the  American 
Church,  he  also,  as  a  true  patriot,  stands  linked  with 
one  of  the  most  arduous,  perilous  expeditions  in  the 
annals  of  the  devolution. 

1 


CHAPTER    IX. 

EBEXEZER   PRIME. 

His  Patriotism. — Driven  from   his   Church. — TTis  Library   destroyed. — His 
Death. — Insult  to  his  Grave. 

Ebenezer  Prime  was  born  in  the  year  1700,  and 
hence  was  seventy-five  years  old  when  open  hostilities 
between  the  Colonies  and  mother  country  commenced. 
Though  past  his  threescore  and  ten,  and  already  tot- 
tering on  the  confines  of  the  grave — when  the  trumpet 
of  war  pealed  over  the  land  ;  his  aged  ear  caught  the 
sound,  and  the  last  failing  energies  of  life  were  devoted 
to  his  country.  He  had  apparently  done  with  earth, 
and  the  scenes  of  eternity  were  opening  on  his  vision, 
yet  he  deemed  himself  doing  God's  service  in  urging 
his  people  to  fight  for  their  liberties.  His  voice  com- 
ing back  as  it  were  from  the  borders  of  the  unseen 
world,  invested  the  cause  he  advocated  with  peculiar 
solemnity,  and  gave  it  the  high  sanction  of  heaven. 
To  one  who  had  no  future  in  this  world,  nothing  but 
a  solemn  sense  of  duty  to  his  God  and  his  country 
could  have  aroused  him  to  enlist  in  a  struggle,  the  end 
of  which  he  never  expected  to  see. 

Having  graduated  at  Yale  College,  in  1718,  he  began 
at  the  early  age  of  nineteen  his  ministerial  labors  at 
Huntington,  Long  Island,  where  he  remained  till  the 
close  of  his  lonq;  and  useful  life. 


108  EBENEZER     PBII1, 

After  the  disastrous  battle  of  Long  Island  his  parish 
WIS  invaded  by  the  enemy,  and  he  and  his  son  were 
compelled  to  flee  for  safety.  The  latter,  with  his  fam- 
ily, left  the  island,  while  the  aged  pastor  found  shelter 
in  a  remote,  secluded  part  of  his  parish.  The  firm 
stand  he  had  taken  on  the  side  of  liberty  was  well 
known  to  the  enemy,  and  his  name  was  never  men- 
tioned by  them  except  with  curses.  His  parishioners, 
sharing  his  patriotism,  shared  with  him  also  the  suf- 
fering caused  by  the  outrages  of  the  invaders.  Their 
property  was  destroyed,  and  they  themselves  compelled 
to  flee  for  their  lives.  The  church,  in  which  he  had 
so  long  preached,  and  where  prayers  for  his  oppressed 
country  had  so  often  arisen,  was  converted  into  a  mili- 
tary depot,  and  desecrated  by  the  licentious  soldiery. 
They  littered  his  stables,  in  which  they  housed  their 
horses,  with  unthreshed  sheaves  of  grain,  mutilated 
his  library  by  tearing  to  pieces  his  most  valuable  books, 
and  consigning  them  to  the  flames.  The  old  patriarch 
looked  on  this  desolation  of  his  home  with  sorrow,  but 
without  one  regret  for  the  stand  he  had  taken  for  a 
just  and  noble  cause.  Though  his  voice  could  no 
longer  proclaim  from  the  pulpit  the  doctrine  of  civil 
and  religious  freedom,  it  could  send  up  the  fervent 
prayer,  that  God  would  deliver  his  suffering  country 
from  the  hands  of  the  oppressor.  There  would  drift 
to  his  aged  ear,  in  his  seclusion,  the  news  of  defeat  and 
of  victory,  that  by  turns  depressed  and  animated  the 
struggling  patriots,  but  he  never  lived  to  be  gladdened 
by  the  triumphant  shout  of  victory  that  proclaimed  a 
nation  free  forever.    lie  closed  his  eyes  on  his  country, 


INSULT     TO    HIS     GRAVE.  109 

torn  and  bleeding,  but  unshaken  in  her  determination 
never  to  abandon  the  struggle  till  she  was  free.  He 
died  August  2d,  1779,  and  was  buried  in  the  grave-yard 
hard  by  the  dilapidated  church  from  which  he  had 
been  driven.  Afterwards,  the  notorious  Col.  Thomp- 
son, of  Massachusetts,  who  subsequently  became  Count 
Eumford,  quartered  his  troops  in  the  town,  and  pulled 
down  the  church,  and  used  the  timbers  and  boards  to 
construct  barracks  and  block  houses  for  their  accom- 
modation. To  insult  and  outrage  the  feelings  of  the 
inhabitants  still  more,  these  were  put  up  in  the  center 
of  the  burying  ground,  and  the  graves  leveled  so  that 
the  consecrated  spot  became  a  hard-trodden  common. 
The  grave-stones  were  pulled  up,  and  used  as  stones 
to  build  their  ovens  with.  From  these  the  bread  would 
often  be  taken  with  the  inverted  inscriptions  stamped 
on  the  crust.  The  Colonel,  to  show  his  malignity, 
pitched  his  marquee  at  the  head  of  Mr.  Prime's  grave, 
so  that,  to  use  his  own  language,  "he  mmlit  tread  on 
the  old  rebel  every  time  lie  ivent  out  or  in." 

But  the  venerable  patriot  was  beyond  the  reach  of 
his  insults  and  his  rage,  safe  with  the  God  whom  he 
had  served,  and  to  whose  protection  he  had  in  life 
committed  without  wavering  his  suffering  country. 
The  Rev.  Dr.  Prime,  present  able  editor  of  the  New 
York  Observer,  is  his  grandson,  who  has  furnished  for 
Dr.  Sprague's  American  Pulpit  an  extended  sketch  of 
his  ministerial  life. 


CHAPTER    X. 

SAMUEL   EATON. 

IS   SETTLED   IN    IlARPSBURG,    MAINE. — PRACTICES     THREE    PROFESSIONS.— ATTENDS 

A  Political  Meeting. — His  stirring  Address.— Narrow  Escape  op  an 
Officer  of  the  King. — Recruiting  Officer  seeks  his  Aid. — Eaton  ad- 
dresses the  People  on  Sabbath  Evening.— Thrilling  Scene. — Soldiers 
obtained. — His  Death. 

Eev.  Samuel  Eaton  was  born  in  Braintree,  Mass., 
and  graduated  at  Harvard  in  1763.  Though  a  native 
of  Massachusetts,  he  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life 
in  Maine.  Endowed  with  a  strong  intellect,  amiable 
yet  fearless  and  independent,  of  strict  integrity  and 
warm  piety,  he  exerted  a  powerful  influence  through- 
out the  Colony.  Possessed  of  considerable  knowledge 
of  medicine,  he  acted  as  physician  in  ordinary  cases  of 
sickness,  while  his  character  as  peace-maker,  and  his 
knowledge  of  common  legal  documents  were  so  well 
known  and  highly  prized,  that  his  people  were  seldom 
obliged  to  consult  a  lawyer.  Acting  thus  in  a  three- 
fold capacity  his  influence  was  felt  far  and  wide. 
When  the  contest  between  the  Colonies  and  the 
mother  country  commenced,  he  threw  this  influence  on 
the  side  of  the  former  ;  and,  both  in  and  out  of  the 
pulpit,  strove  to  arouse  the  people  to  active  resistance. 
He  frequently  took  his  texts  in  reference  to  the  coming 
struggle,  and  spoke  of  it  as  a  religious  one,  and  directed 
his  hearers  to  look  to  the  Lord  of  Hosts  for  aid  in  car- 
rying it  forward.     He  declared  that  the  people  of  New 


STIRRING     ADDRESS.  Ill 

England  were  a  chosen  generation,  and  it  was  God's 
purpose,  if  they  depended  on  him,  and  obeyed  his 
laws,  to  make  them  successful  in  securing  the  freedom 
they  had  made  such  sacrifices  to  establish  in  this  new 
hemisphere. 

After  the  battles  of  Lexington  and  Concord  a  meet- 
ing was  called  of  all  those  capable  of  bearing  arms  in 
the  towns  of  Harpswell  and  Brunswick.  From  far 
and  near  the  yeomanry  gathered  to  the  meeting-house 
— the  common  place  of  rendezvous  in  those  times — to 
consult  on  the  course  they  should  pursue  in  the  im- 
pending crisis. 

Mr.  Eaton  was  present  simply  as  one  of  the  au- 
dience ;  and  while  the  business  was  being  transacted,  lis- 
tened in  silence  to  the  conflicting  opinions  that  were 
presented.  Some  were  doubtful  and  hesitating,  and 
advocated  mild  measures  that  would  leave  them  un- 
committed ;  others  openly  opposed  anything  that 
looked  like  revolution.  Although  he  said  nothing 
while  the  debate  was  proceeding,  he  was  observed  to  be 
moving  amid  the  crowd,  conversing  with  the  disaffect- 
ed, and  endeavoring  to  convince  them  of  the  right  and 
duty  of  resistance.  The  business  at  length  being  ac- 
complished, the  chairman,  a  zealous  patriot,  who  had 
kept  his  eye  on  the  pastor,  arose,  and  requested  him 
him  to  speak  to  the  people.  He  consented ;  and, 
mounting  the  pulpit,  addressed  them  with  an  elo- 
quence and  pathos  that  bore  down  all  opposition,  and 
made  each  heart  leap  as  to  a  trumpet  call.  Flashing 
eyes  and  compressed  lips  on  every  side  told  that  doubt 
and  indecision  were  over.     The  patriots  became  ex- 


112  SAMUEL     EATON. 

cited  almost  to  frenzy,  and  the  chairman  at  length,  no 
longer  able  to  control  himself,  arose,  and  rushing  to 
the  leader  of  the  opposition,  wRo  held  a  commission 
under  the  king,  seized  him  by  the  collar,  and  demand- 
ed, with  a  loud  voice,  that  he  should  at  once,  and  on 
the  spot,  renounce  king  and  Parliament.  The  officer 
refused  to  do  so,  and;  scoffing  at  his  threats,  denounced 
him  as  a  rebel.  Stung  to  madness  by  the  insulting 
epithet,  the  chairman  cried  out,  "  Away  with  him  to 
the  grave-yard — let  us  bury  him  alive  1"  The  propo- 
sition was  received  with  loud  shouts,  and  the  people, 
rising  en  masse,  rushed  on  their  terrified  victim,  and 
hurried  him  awray. 

They  were  in  earnest  ;  and  would  soon  have  had 
the  trembling  wretch  under  ground  ;  but  the  counsels 
of  a  few  of  the  more  temperate,  backed  by  the  urgent 
solicitations  of  the  pastor,  calmed  their  passions,  and 
they  released  him.  Humbled  and  terrified,  the  trem- 
bling official  turned  and  fled,  escaping  from  an  oppo- 
sition he  saw  he  was  not  only  unable  to  stem,  but 
which  threatened  to  bear  him  away  in  its  fury.  The 
parson  was  found  to  be  more  powerful  than  the  king 
in  llarpsburg. 

Some  two  months  after,  Falmouth,  now  Portland, 
wras  burned  by  the  enemy.  The  country  was  at  once 
aroused,  and  messengers  were  dispatched  in  every  di- 
rection to  summon  the  people  to  arms.  A  recruiting 
officer  was  sent  to  Harpswell  to  raise  volunteers,  but, 
to  his  surprise,  found  the  people  backward  in  respond- 
ing to  his  call.  Discouraged  and  sad  he,  as  a  last 
resort,  repaired  on  Sunday  morning  to  Mr.  Eaton,  to 


ADDRESSES  THE  PEOPLE.       113 

beg  him  to  use  his  influence  in  his  behalf.  Meeting 
him  on  his  way  to  church,  he  laid  his  case  before  him, 
and  besought  him  to  speak  to  the  people,  and  urge 
them  to  come  to  the  rescue.  "  Sir/'  said  the  pastor, 
■  it  is  my  communion  Sabbath,  and  I  must  not  intro- 
duce secular  subjects  during  the  day.  1  will  think  of 
the  matter,  and  see  what  I  can  do.  Perhaps  I  will 
invite  the  people  to  assemble  in  front  of  the  meeting- 
house at  the  going  down  of  the  sub."  So,  after  ser- 
vice, he  told  the  congregation  that  he  wished  to  see 
them  after  sunset  on  the  church  green.  He  then  dis- 
missed them  to  their  homes,  and  retired  to  his  study. 

It  was  a  warm  August  evening,  and  as  the  sun 
stooped  behind  the  western  hills,  closing  the  New 
England  Sabbath,  and  while  his  beams  still  lingered 
on  the  glittering  spire,  men  singly  and  in  groups  wrere 
seen  bending  their  steps  towards  the  meeting-house. 
Some,  surprised  at  the  strange  invitation,  were  won- 
dering what  it  meant,  while  others,  knowing  their  pas- 
tor's patriotism,  more  than  suspected  its  object.  When 
the  crowd  had  all  assembled,  and  early  twilight  was 
gathering  over  the  landscape,  Mr.  Eaton  left  his  study, 
and  proceeded  thoughtfully  to  the  meeting-house.  The 
crowd  gave  way  respectfully  as  he  approached,  and 
passing  through  it  he  mounted  the  horse  block  stand- 
ing near  the  door.  Pausing  a  moment,  and  casting 
his  eye  over  the  crowd,  he  said  :  "  Let  us  look  to  God 
in  prayer/'  It  was  a  strangely  solemn  scene  —  that 
venerated  pastor  in  the  gray  twilight,  with  head  un- 
covered, lifting  his  voice  to  the  heavens,  while  the  as- 
sembly, with  bowed  heads  and  motionless  forms,  stood 


114  SAMUEL     EATON. 

and  reverently  listened.  When  he  had  closed,  he  stood 
for  a  minute  as  if  lost  in  thought,  and  then  burst 
forth,  "  Cursed  be  he  that  keepeth  back  his  sword  from 
blood!" — Jeremiah,  xlvi.  10. 

A  sudden  thunder  peal  breaking  from  the  clear 
heavens  would  not  have  startled  those  quiet  farmers 
more  than  the  unexpected  deliverance  of  this  fearful 
anathema.  Coming  from  the  minister  of  God,  and 
uttered  there  under  the  shadow  of  the  sanctuary,  on 
the  evening  of  the  solemn  Sabbath,  it  carried  with  it 
a  strange,  resistless  power.  A  silence  profound  as  that 
which  rested  on  the  neighboring  grave- yard  followed. 
He  then  went  on  to  describe  briefly  the  circumstances 
under  which  it  was  pronounced — drew  a  parallel  be- 
tween them  and  the  present  oppressed  and  perilous 
state  of  God's  people  in  the  Colony,  and  making  a 
direct  application  of  the  subject  to  those  present, 
closed  with  a  powerful  appeal  to  them  as  men,  as  pa- 
triots, to  gird  on  the  sword  without  delay,  and  strike 
for  God  and  liberty. 

The  minister  effected  what  the  recruiting  officer 
failed  to  accomplish,  and  that  night  forty  men  enrolled 
their  ntimes  as  volunteers. 

After  the  termination  of  the  war,  his  life  moved  on 
in  the  even  tenor  of  its  way  to  its  close  in  1822. 
Courtly  in  his  manners,  faithful  in  his  duties,  never 
failing  to  warn,  rebuke,  and  instruct  the  highest  as 
well  as  the  lowest  whenever  a  proper  occasion  presented 
itself,  he  lived  to  the  good  old  age  of  eighty-five,  and, 
like  a  shock  of  corn  fully  ripe/ was  gathered  to  his 
fathers  in  peace. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

WILLIAM   TENNENT. 

His  Birtii  and  Education. —  Settled  at  Norwalk,  Conn.  —  Removes  to 
Charleston,  S.  C.  —  His  personal  Appearance.  —  His  Eloquence.— His 
Boldness  and  Zeal  in  the  Cause  of  the  Colonies. — Makes  Patriotic  Ap- 
peals on  the  Sabbath. — Is  elected  Member  of  the  Provincial  Congress 
of  South  Carolina. —  Sent  with  Henry  Drayton  to  the  back  Settle- 
ments to  baffle  the  Tories.— His  Letters  to  Henry  Laurens  and  the 
Congress.— Again  sent  to  Congress.— His  Character  and  Death. 

The  Tennents  seemed  to  be  of  the  Aaronic  line, 
and  William  was  a  favorite  name  in  the  various 
branches  of  the  family.  There  were  three  William 
Tennents  who  early  devoted  themselves  to  the  cause 
of  their  Master,  and  when  the  Revolution  broke  out 
made  the  cause  of  their  country  one  with  it.  The 
clergyman,  whose  name  stands  at  the  head  of  this 
sketch,  is  sometimes  called  William  Tennent  (Third), 
to  distinguish  him  from  the  other  celebrated  William 
Tennents,  and  was  born  in  Freehold,  N.  J.,  in  1740. 
Gifted  with  a  fine  intellect,  he  made  such  rapid  prog- 
ress in  his  early  studies  that  he  graduated  at  Princeton 
when  but  eighteen  years  of  age.  He  was  licensed  to 
preach  in  1761,  and  labored  as  an  itinerant  for  six 
months  under  the  direction  of  Hanover  presbytery  of 
Virginia.  In  1765  he  was  settled  at  Norwalk,  Conn., 
where  he  remained  a  little  over  six  years.  At  the  end 
of  that  period,  he  received  a  call  from  an  independent 


116  WILLIAM     TENNENT. 

church  in  Charleston,  S.  C,  and  though  for  a  time  the 
church  at  Norwalk  refused  to  part  with  him,  they 
finally  gave  a  reluctant  consent,  and  he  was  installed 
pastor  of  the  former  church.  He  was  laboring  here 
when  the  storm  of  the  Kevolution  broke  over  the 
land. 

The  contest  at  once  enlisted  his  whole  heart,  and  he 
threw  himself  into  it  with  a  boldness  and  zeal  that 
astonished  and  troubled  some  of  even  his  best  friends. 
He  was  of  a  manly  presence,  vivid  imagination,  great 
beauty  of  person,  and  lofty  genius.  Consciousness 
of  his  great  powers  made  him  bold  and  enterprising, 
and  he  became  a  great  favorite  with  the  people.  Said 
one  who  knew  him  well,  over  his  dead  body:  "His 
honest,  disinterested,  yet  glowing  zeal  for  his  country's 
good  demands  from  us  a  tribute  of  respect.  Impressed 
with  a  sense  of  the  justness,  greatness,  and  vast  im- 
portance of  the  American  cause,  he  engaged  in  it  with 
an  ardor  and  resolution  that  would  have  done  honor  to 
an  ancient  Roman.  For  this  he  was  indeed  censured, 
and  perhaps  too  liberally,  by  his  friends.  Early  in  the 
contest  he  magnanimously  stepped  forth  as  an  advo- 
cate for  this  continent.  Here  was  a  field  suited  to  his 
great  abilities,  and  here  his  abilities  shone  with  in- 
creasing lustre.  He  first  endeavored  to  rouse  his  fel- 
low-citizens to  a  just  sense  of  their  inestimable  rights 
and  a  willingness  to  contend  for  them,  and  to  his  spir- 
ited exertions,  among  others,  may  in  a  great  measure 
be  attributed  that  noble,  patriotic  zeal  which  soon 
blazed  forth  to  the  immortal  honor  of  this  State." 

Being  at  the  center  of  influence  in  the  province,  his 


ELECTED     TO     COX  Git  ESS.  117 

eloquent  appeals  reached  those  who  controlled  its  des- 
tinies. He  rarely  preached  political  sermons ;  but  so 
holy  did  he  feel  the  struggle  to  be,  in  which  the  Colo- 
nies were  engaged,  that  often,  after  the  services  of  the 
Sabbath  were  over,  he  would  repair  to  the  court-house, 
and  address  the  people  on  their  duty  to  their  country, 
lie  did  not  regard  this  as  any  desecration  of  the  Sab- 
bath, for  though  he  felt  that  the  services  of  the 
sanctuary  were  consecrated  to  divine  worship,  he  yet 
believed  that  the  Sabbath  was  made  for  man,  not  man 
for  the  Sabbath. 

His  pen  was  also  devoted  to  the  cause  of  his  coun- 
try, and  he  left  no  measure  untried  to  reach  the  ear 
and  heart  of  the  inhabitants  of  South  Carolina.  His 
enthusiastic  patriotism  and  his  great  talents  made  him 
so  prominent  that  the  people,  contrary  to  established 
usage,  elected  him  member  of  the  Provincial  Congress. 
In  1775,  the  tories  in  the  back  settlements  began  to 
assume  such  an  attitude  of  decided  hostility  towards 
the  friends  of  the  Kevolution  that  serious  consequences 
were  apprehended.  To  counteract  their  influence,  the 
Council  of  Safety  appointed  Mr.  Tennent  and  Wm. 
Henry  Drayton0  a  deputation  to  visit  different  portions 
of  the  State.  They  at  once  set  out  on  their  mission,  and 
traveling  through  the  back  settlements,  had  private 
interviews  with  the  people,  and  held  public  meetings 
at  which  Tennent  addressed  them  in  such  burning 
eloquence  that  the  adherents  of  the  royal  government 
trembled  for  their  influence.  Public  meetings,  private 
conferences,    the   formation   of   volunteer   companies, 

*  President  of  Provincial  Congress. 


118  WILLIAM     TENNENT. 

and  unceasing  efforts  to  bring  in  the  wavering,  and 
overawe  the  openly  hostile,  occupied  all  his  time  and 
energies. 

The  following  extracts  from  his  letters  while  on  this 
mission  will  give  a  slight  idea  of  his  labors.  In  one  of 
them,  to  Henry  Laurens,  dated  u  Bullock's  Creek, 
Aug.  20th,  1774/'  he  says,  after  speaking  of  what 
others,  in  conjunction  with  himself,  were  doing,  "  I 
turned  my  course  into  the  new  acquisition,  where  I  am 
to  have  a  meeting,  from  day  to  day,  in  Col.  Neil's 
regiment.  I  think  I  shall  fix  this  district  in  the  right 
cause.  I  discovered  on  my  way  a  scheme  to  surprise 
Fort  Charlotte,  took  an  affidavit  of  it,  and  sent  it 
express  to  Mr.  Drayton — so  hope  it  will  be  prevented. 
°  °  °  I  have  formed  one,  and  am  forming,  in  this 
district,  another  troop  of  volunteer  horse  rangers,  who 
are  good  as  sworn  to  the  Council  of  Safety,  when  they 
enlist.  We  are  hemming  in  the  dissidents  on  all  sides 
as  much  as  possible,  but  their  leaders  seem  determined, 
if  possible,  to  bring  the  people  to  draw  blood  before 
they  have  time  to  be  enlightened.  I  have  forsook  my 
chaise,  and  ride  on  horseback,  from  day  to  day  meet- 
ing the  people/' 

In  another  letter,  dated  "Long  Cane,  Sept.  1st," 
addressed  to  the  Committee  of  Safety,  he  says,  "I 
thought  it  necessary  to  visit  the  settlements  on  this  side 
of  Saluda.  Met  a  large  congregation  yesterday,  and 
found  the  people  divided  in  their  sentiments.  Spoke 
at  least  two  hours  to  them  with  good  effect.  The  pre- 
vailing party  here  is  for  American  measures,  but  they 
jiced  confirmation.     1  have,  therefore,  appointed  three 


HIS     CHARACTER     AND     DEATH.  119 

meetings,  at  which  I  expect  to  see  a  great  number  of 
the  disaffected.  I  shall  then  cross  over  into  FletcheH's 
regiment  once  more,  to  be  at  an  election  appointed  at 
Ford's,  on  the  Enioree,  where  we  expect  great  opposi- 
tion, if  not  violence,  from  Cunningham's  party.  Brown 
will  bring  them  to  blood  if  he  can,  but  1  still  hope  it 
may  be  prevented.  I  consider  myself  as  running  great 
risks,  but  think  it  my  duty  *  *  *  V  He  then 
speaks  of  the  want  of  ammunition,  and  adds,  u  I  shall 
visit  Charlotte  before  I  return,  and  hope  to  let  you 
hear  more  particularly  on  this  subject  next  week/' 

In  executing  this  mission  he  not  only  swayed  the 
people  by  his  eloquence,  but  by  his  shrewdness  and 
sagacity  broke  up  many  dangerous  plots  and  combina- 
tions.- 

Eeturning  to  Charleston,  he  again  took  his  seat 
in  Congress,  to  which  he  was  successively  elected. 
Says  the  Kev.  Mr.  Alison,  who  preached  his  funeral 
sermon  :  "  Both  in  the  Provincial  Congress  and  Gen- 
eral Assembly  he  displayed  great  erudition,  strength 
of  argument,  generosity  of  sentiment,  and  a  most  un- 
bounded eloquence.  He  continued  his  fervent  endeav- 
ors to  the  last,  resolutely  regardless  of  the  attacks  of 
envy  and  calumny  he  met  with." 

In  1777,  his  aged  father  died  at  Freehold,  and  the 
next  summer  he  came  north  to  take  his  widowed 
mother  to  his  own  home,  that  he  might  cheer  and 
solace  her  declining  years.  On  his  return,  when  about 
ninety  miles  from  Charleston,  on  the  high  hills  of 
Santee,  he  was  seized  with  a  violent  nervous  fever 
which  carried  him  rapidly  to  the  grave.     Just  as  the 


120  WILLIAM     T  E  N  N  E  N  T  . 

spirit  was  leaving  the  body,  he  remarked  to  the  clergy- 
man beside  him,  that  his  mind  was  calm  and  easy,  and 
he  was  willing  to  be  gone. 

Thus  passed  away,  as  it  were  on  the  very  threshold 
of  the  great  struggle  in  which  his  heart  was  so  deeply 
interested,  this  young,  eloquent,  gifted  divine  and  ar- 
dent patriot.  Had  he  lived  to  the  good  old  age  of  Dr. 
Wetherspoon,  he  would,  like  him,  have  been  not  only 
one  of  the  leading  patriots,  but  one  of  the  great  intel- 
lectual lights  of  the  country.  It  is  rare  that  great 
personal  beauty,  impressive  bearing,  genius,  eloquence, 
and  piety  are  united  in  one  man  as  they  were  in  him. 
He  was  one  of  the  few  on  whom  nature  seems  to  de- 
light to  lavish  her  choicest  gifts.  These  were  all 
sanctified  and  consecrated  to  God  and  his  country. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

PETER  GABRIEL  MUHLENBURG. 

Figiitino  Clergymen. — Muulmbujm**!  Birth  and  Education. — Goes  to  Eng- 
land.—Settles  in  Virginia.— Takes  a  prominent  Part  in  Political 
Movements. — Becomes  Member  of  the  House  of  Burgesses. — Haises  a 
Regiment,  of  which  he  is  chosen  Colonel.— Preaches  His  Farewell  Ser- 
mon.—Orders  the  Drum  to  beat  for  Recruits  at  the  Church-door. — 
Marches  to  Charleston.— Camps  at  Valley  Forge. — Fights  bravely  at 
Brandywine. — At  Monmouth. — Commands  the  Reserve  at  Stony  Point. — 
Makes  a  desperate  Assault  at  Yorktown. — Is  made  Major-general. — 
His  Political  Career  after  the  War. — Defence  of  his  Course  in  aban- 
doning his  Profession. 

There  was  a  class  of  clergymen  in  the  Ee volution 
who  regarded  the  struggle  so  sacred  that  they  felt  it 
to  be  their  duty  to  fight  sometimes  as  well  as  pray. 
They  did  not,  however,  consider  it  necessary  to  aban- 
don their  profession  to  do  so.  That  duty  depended  on 
the  emergency  of  the  case.  In  a  perilous  crisis,  when 
one  idle  arm  might  turn  the  scale  against  the  patriots, 
they  had  no  hesitation  in  stepping  into  the  ranks,  and 
fighting  like  a  common  soldier.  They  saw  nothing 
incongruous  in  this  course,  and  hence  seldom  conde- 
scended to  make  an  apology  for  it.  Nor  did  it  inter- 
fere with  their  professional  duties — -for,  when  the 
smoke  of  battle  had  cleared  away,  they  were  found 
praying  with  the  wounded  who  had  been  struck  by 
their  side,  or  offering  thanksgivings  in  front  of  the  bat- 
talions for  a  victory  won. 

The  subject  of  the  following  sketch,  however,  aban- 
6 


122        PETER    GABRIEL     MUIILENBURG. 

doncd  entirely  his  profession,  and  "became  a  distin- 
guished military  man. 

John  Peter  Gabriel  Muhlenburg  was  born  in  the 
village  of  Trapp,  Montgomery  Co.,  Pa.,  on  the  first  of 
October,  1746.  Educated  partly  in  this  country  and 
partly  in  Europe,  he  received  ordination  in  1768,  and 
commenced  his  labors  in  Western  New  Jersey.  In 
1772  he  went  to  London  to  receive  ordination  from  an 
English  bishop,  that  he  might  take  charge  of  a  church 
in  Virginia,  to  which  he  had  been  called.  Returning 
to  America,  he  settled  at  Woodstock,  and  entered  on 
the  duties  of  a  country  pastor. 

His  ministerial  profession,  however,  did  not  prevent 
him  from  feeling  a  deep  interest  in  the  quarrel  between 
the  Colonies  and  the  mother  country — on  the  contrary, 
he  took  the  lead  in  every  measure  of  hostility  to  her 
oppressive  acts. 

In  1774,  when  the  people  of  his  county  assembled 
to  choose  a  committee  of  safety,  he  was  unanimously 
elected  its  chairman.  He  was  the  head  and  soul  of  the 
opposition  in  that  whole  region,  and  so  much  did  he 
possess  the  confidence  of  the  people  that  they  sent  him 
to  the*  House  of  Burgesses  of  the  state.  Ardent,  fear- 
less and  patriotic  he  became  so  absorbed  in  the  ap- 
proaching struggle,  that,  when  the  news  of  the  battle 
of  Bunker  Hill  reached  him,  he  resolved  at  once  to 
throw  up  his  profession,  and  enter  the  army.  Having 
talked  and  preached  for  freedom,  he  determined  now 
to  strike  for  it.  He  immediately  commenced  to  orga- 
nize a  Virginia  regiment,  and  laying  aside  his  ministe- 
rial character,  became  its  colonel. 


TARE  WELL     SERMON.  123 

He  took  leave  of  his  people  in  a  farewell  sermon, 
which  glowed  throughout  with  the  most  devoted  pa- 
triotism. At  the  close  he  told  them  of  the  resolution 
he  had  taken  to  fight,  and  if  need  be,  die  for  his  coun- 
try on  the  battle-field.  It  was  a  strange  announce- 
ment from  the  pulpit,  but  there  were  few  to  criticize 
his  abandonment  of  his  profession,  for  he  had  breathed 
his  own  fervid  spirit  into  his  congregation,  and  the 
kindling  eye  and  speaking  countenance  told  him  that 
his  course  had  their  hearty  approval.  Said  he,  in  con- 
clusion, "  The  Bible  tells  us  '  there  is  a  time  for  all 
things/  and  there  is  a  time  to  preach,  and  a  time  to 
pray,  but  the  time  for  me  to  preach  has  passed  away  ;" 
then,  raising  his  voice,  till  it  rung  like  the  blast  of  a 
trumpet  through  the  church,  he  exclaimed,  "  and  there 
is  a  time  to  fight,  and  that  time  has  now  come" 

Closing  the  services  he  stepped  into  the  vestry-room, 
and  laying  aside  his  gown,  put  on  his  colonel^  uni- 
form, and  stood  before  his  astonished  congregation  in 
full  regimentals.  This  sudden  apparition  of  a  Vir- 
ginia colonel,  in  full  uniform,  walking  down  the  broad 
aisle,  in  the  place  of  their  pastor,  took  every  one  by 
surprise.  Turning  neither  to  the  right  hand  nor  to 
the  left,  he  strode  sternly  on  to  the  door,  and  ordered 
the  drum  to  beat  for  recruits. 

The  silence  that  had  reigned,  while  this  extraordi- 
nary scene  was  passing,  was  suddenly  broken  by  the 
loud  and  rapid  roll  of  the  drum.  The  congregation 
rose  simultaneously  to  their  feet,  and  the  men  gathered 
in  a  mass  around  their  former  pastor — scarcely  one 
capable  of  bearing  arms  remaining  behind.     The  calm 


124       PETER    GABRIEL     MUHLENBURG. 

quiet  of  the  Sabbath  day  was  now  changed  into  a 
scene  of  bustle  and  excitement.  The  drum  was  kept 
beating,  and  those  who  were  not  in  the  church  came 
rushing  towards  it,  to  learn  what  strange  event  had 
happened.  The  sight  of  the  pastor  in  uniform,  stand- 
ing at  the  door  and  calling  for  recruits,  kindled  the 
most  unbounded  enthusiasm,  and  before  night  nearly 
three  hundred  men  had  joined  his  standard.  He  im- 
mediately marched  south,  and  was  present  with  his 
regiment  at  the  battle  of  Charleston. 

The  next  year  he  was  promoted  by  Congress  to  the 
rank  of  brigadier-general,  and  ordered  to  take  charge 
of  all  the  Continental  troops  in  Virginia.  The  next 
May  he  joined  Washington  at  Middebrook,  New  Jer- 
sey, and  marched  with  his  brigade  to  the  desolate  en- 
campment of  Valley  Forge.  Among  the  devoted 
leaders  who  closed  with  unflinching  resolution  and 
courage  around  their  great  chieftain,  during  the  trials 
of  this  terrible  winter,  none  took  a  firmer  and  nobler 
stand  than  Muhlenburg.  At  the  battle  of  Brandy- 
wine  his  brigade  formed  a  part  of  the  division  of 
Greene,  which  at  the  close  of  that  disastrous  day  was 
ordered  up  from  the  rear,  where  he  had  been  stationed, 
to  cover  the  retreat.  For  three  quarters  of  an  hour 
these  noble  troops  withstood  the  onset  of  the  entire 
British  army,  and  then  steadily  and  in  good  order 
withdrew.  At  Germantown  he  was  in  the  thickest  of 
the  fight,  and  at  Monmouth,  on  that  scorching  Sab- 
bath day,  led  his  troops  over  the  burning  sands  as 
steadily  as  if  on  parade.  Known  for  his  coolness, 
courage,  and  determined  resolution,  ho  was  selected  by 


POLITICAL     CAREER.  125 

Wayne  to  command  the  reserve  at  the  assault  on  Stony 
Point.  He  was  afterwards  stationed  in  Virginia,  and 
aided  in  the  operations  that  finally  shut  up  Cornwallis 
in  Yorktown.  His  brigade  was  actively  employed 
during  the  siege  of  that  place.  On  one  occasion  he 
led  a  storming  party  against  a  redoubt,  and  with  such 
desperate  and  deadly  resolution  did  he  carry  it  through 
the  fire,  that  not  a  man  returned  unwounded. 

At  the  close  of  the  war  he  was  elevated  to  the  rank 
of  major-general.  Removing  to  Pennsylvania,  he  was 
made  chairman  of  the  executive  council  of  the  State, 
and  afterwards  was  sent  to  Congress.  In  1801  he  was 
elected  United  States  Senator,  and  in  the  same  year 
received  the  appointment  of  supervisor  of  the  internal 
revenue  of  Pennsylvania.  The  next  year  he  was  made 
collector  of  the  port  of  Philadelphia,  which  office  he 
held  till  his  death,  in  October  1807.  He  was  buried 
close  by  the  village  church  where  he  was  baptized,  and 
the  following  true  epitaph  placed  above  his  grave  : 
"  He  was  brave  in  the  field,  faithful  in  the  cabinet, 
honorable  in  all  his  transactions,  a  sincere  friend,  and 
an  honest  man/' 

It  is  but  just  to  the  memory  of  this  unflinching  pa- 
triot to  let  him  be  heard  in  his  own  defence  for  his 
course  in  abandoning  the  pulpit  for  the  army.  In  a 
letter  to  his  brother  Frederick,  a  clergyman  also,  who 
had  written  to  another  brother  condemning  his  (Peter's) 
course  for  laying  aside  the  ministerial  profession  for 
that  of  arms,  he  says  :  "  Thus  far  I  had  written  when 
I  received  brother  Henry's  letter  from  you  to  him, 
wherein  you  make  observations  on  my  conduct  in  the 


126       PETER    GABRIEL    MUHLENBURG. 

present  alarming  crisis.  You  say,  as  a  clergyman 
nothing  can  excuse  my  conduct.  I  am  a  clergyman,  it 
is  true,  but  I  am  a  member  of  society  as  well  as  the 
poorest  layman,  and  my  liberty  is  as  dear  to  me  as  to 
any  man.  Shall  I  then  sit  still,  and  enjoy  myself  at 
home,  when  the  best  blood  of  the  continent  is  spilling  ? 
Heaven  forbid  it  !  You  make  a  comparison  with 
Struensee.  The  comparison  is  odious.  Did  he  die  in 
defence  of  his  country  ?  Far  from  it.  He  suffered 
for  crimes,  and  his  life  was  justly  forfeited  to  the  law. 

But  even  if  you  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
question,  you  must  allow  that  in  this  last  step  I  have 
acted  for  the  best.  You  know  that  from  the  begin- 
ning of  these  troubles  I  have  been  compelled  to  have  a 
hand  in  public  affairs.  I  have  been  chairman  to  tho 
committee  of  delegates  from  this  county  from  the  first. 
Do  you  think,  if  America  should  he  conquered,  I 
should  be  safe  f  Far  from  it.  And  would  you  not 
sooner  fight  like  a  man  than  die  like  a  dog  /  I  am 
called  by  my  country  to  its  defence.  The  cause  is  just 
and  noble.  Were  I  a  bishop,  even  a  Lutheran  one, 
I  should  obey  without  hesitation,  and  so  far  am  I  from 
thinking  that  I  am  wrong,  I  am  convinced  it  is  my 
duty  so  to  do,  a  duty  I  owe  to  my  God  and  to  my 
country/' 

This  same  Frederick,  notwithstanding  his  condem- 
nation of  his  brother,  two  or  three  years  later,  under 
the  pressure  of  the  Involution,  left  the  church  for  the 
state,  and  entered  Congress  under  the  Federal  Con- 
stitution. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THOMAS  ALLEN". 

His  Birth  and  Education*. — Settles  in  Pittsfield. — Takes  decided  Part 
with  the  Colonies. — Is  made  Chairman  of  the  Committee  of  Safety  and 
Correspondence. — His  Labors. — His  Interest  in  the  Conquest  of  Ticon- 
deroga. — New  and  interesting  Letter  to  Gen.  Setii  Pomeroy. — Helps  to 
furnish  Knox  with  an  Ox-train  to  carry  Cannon  to  Boston. — Joins  tiik 
Army  as  Chaplain. — His  Diary  at   the   Battle   of  White    Plains. — Goes 

TO  TlCONDEROGA. — UlS  ADDRESS  TO  THE  SOLDIERS,  WHEN  MOMENTARILY  EX- 
PECTING an  Attack  from  Burgoyne. — Leaves  the  Army  in  Disgust  at  the 
Retreat. — Rallies  the  Militia  to  the  Aid  of  Stark,  at  Bennington. — 
His  Interview  with  him. — Summons  the  Enemy  to  surrender,  and  is 
fired  at. — Fights  in  the  Ranks. — First  over  the  Breast-work. — II13 
Care  i-or  the  Wounded. — Returns  to  his  Parish. — Dialogue  with  a  Pa- 
rishioner.—" Puts  out  the  Flash."1 — Goes  to  Georgia  after  his  Brother's 
Widow. — Voyage  to  England  after  an  Infant  Grandchild. — Prays  with 
and  addresses  the  crew  in  expectation  of  an  attack. — iils  conduct  in 
the  Shay's  Rebellion. — His  Statesmanship.— His  Death. 

Some  of  the  clergy  who  were  deeply  engaged  in  the 
Kevolution  kept  a  record  of  the  stirring  scenes  through 
which  they  passed,  and  left  letters  and  documents  that 
are  still  preserved  with  religious  care  by  their  descend- 
ants, and  which  have  a  priceless  value  in  the  eyes  of 
the  historian.  The  pleasure  of  perusing  them,  how- 
ever, is  sadly  diminished  by  the  regret  they  awaken, 
that  so  much  similar  material  has  been  lost,  through 
accident,  want  of  proper  care,  or  appreciation  of  its 
true  worth. 

The  descendants  of  the  subject  of  the  following 
sketch  are  among  the  fortunate  few  who  possess  such 


128  THOMAS     ALLEN. 

documents  and  memoranda  saved  from  the  wreck  of 
the  past. 

Among  the  patriotic  clergymen  of  New  England 
none  occupies  a  higher  rank  than  Thomas  Allen,  of 
Pittsfieldj  who  was  "born  in  Northampton,  January 
17th,  1743.  An  uncle,  whose  name  he  bore,  having 
bequeathed  to  him  a  sum  sufficient  to  provide  for  his 
education,  he  commenced  his  studies  early  in  life,  and 
at  nineteen  graduated  with  high  honor  at  Cambridge. 
He  was  only  twenty-one  when  he  was  ordained  pastor 
of  Pittsfield,  then  a  frontier  town  on  the  western  bor- 
ders of  Massachusetts.  He  was  the  first  minister  ever 
settled  in  the  place,  which  was  then  a  rude  collection 
of  log  huts,  with  the  exception  perhaps  of  half  a  dozen 
framed  houses. 

In  17G8  he  married  the  daughter  of  Rev.  Jonathan 
Lee,  of  Salisbury,  Conn.,  by  whom  he  had  twelve  chil- 
dren, many  of  whose  descendants  at  this  day  shed 
lustre  on  the  State  that  gave  them  birth,  lie  was  of 
middle  height  and  slender  frame,  yet  strong  and  active, 
and  capable  of  great  endurance.  His  frank,  open 
countenance  was  lit  up  by  a  keen  and  piercing  eye. 
Ardent  in  his  feelings,  hating  wrong,  and  scorning  op- 
pression, he  became  deeply  enlisted  in  the  cause  of  the 
Colonies,  from  the  commencement  of  the  struggle  for 
redress  of  grievances,  while  his  zeal  and  ability  made 
him  the  leader  in  all  the  measures  taken  to  resist  the 
encroachments  of  the  mother  country.  Hence,  in  June 
1774,  when  the  selectmen  of  the  town  called  a  town 
meeting,  and  seven  men  were  appointed  a  standing 
committee  of  safety  and  correspondence,  he  was  chosen 


CONQUEST     OF     TICONDEROGA.  129 

chairman.  This  position  brought  him  into  correspon- 
dence with  the  leading  patriots  of  the  State,  and  in 
the  commencement  of  the  Revolution  was  one  calling 
for  great  activity  and  labor.  Though  earnest  and  elo- 
quent in  his  appeals,  he  was  a  man  of  deeds  rather 
than  words,  and  gave  his  time  and  energies  to  the 
carrying  out  of  practical  measures. 

When  the  expedition  against  Ticonderoga  was  being 
organized,  he  took  a  deep  interest  in  it,  and  wrote  let- 
ters to  Seth  Pomeroy,  at  Cambridge,  not  only  keeping 
him  informed  of  what  was  going  on  in  the  western 
part  of  the  State,  but  suggesting  plans  of  future  ac- 
tion. He  helped  to  unravel  plots  against  the  patriots, 
caused  some  to  be  sent  to  jail,  and  drove  others  with 
"hue  and  cry"  out  of  the  region.  He  traveled  over 
into  New  York,  bringing  back  the  disaffected,  and 
stirring  up  rebellion  on  every  side. 

The  conquest  of  Canada,  at  this  time,  seemed  to 
occupy  the  attention  of  military  leaders  almost  as 
much  as  the  defence  of  our  sea  coast ;  and  Ticonde- 
roga and  Crown  Point  being  regarded  as  the  key  to  it, 
their  capture  became  of  vital  importance.  It  was 
necessary,  however,  that  any  expedition  against  them 
should  be  conducted  with  great  secrecy,  or  reenforce- 
inents  from  Canada  would  be  hastened  down  to  gar- 
rison them  more  effectually.  Mr.  Allen  thus  refers  to 
the  expedition  that  was  finally  set  on  foot  : 

"  Pittsfield,  May  4th,  17V 5. 

"  General  Pomeroy  : 

"  Sir  —  I  have  the  pleasure  to  acquaint  you  that  a 
G* 


130  THOMAS     ALLEN.      - 

number  of  gentlemen  from  Connecticut  went  from  this 
place  last  Thursday  morning,  having  been  joined  by 
Col.  Easton,  Capt.  Dickinson,  and  Mr.  Brown,  with 
forty  soldiers,  on  an  expedition  against  Ticonderoga 
and  Crown  Point,  expecting  to  be  reenforced  by  men 
from  the  grants  above  here,  a  post  having  previously 
taken  his  departure  to  inform  Col.  Ethan  Allen  of  the 
design,  and  desiring  him  to  hold  his  Green  Mountain 
boys  in  actual  readiness.  The  expedition  has  been 
carried  on  with  the  utmost  secrecy,  as  they  are  in 
hopes  of  taking  the  forts  by  surprise.  He  expects 
they  will  reach  those  forts  by  Saturday  next,  or  Lord's 
day  at  the  farthest.  The  plan  was  concocted  at  Hart- 
ford, last  Saturday,  by  the  Governor  and  Council, 
Col.  Hancock,  Mr.  Adams,  and  others  from  our  Prov- 
ince being  present.  Three  hundred  pounds  were  drawn 
immediately  out  of  the  treasury  for  the  aforesaid  pur- 
pose, and  committed  to  those  gentlemen  who  were 
here.  We  earnestly  pray  for  success  in  this  important 
expedition,  as  the  taking  of  those  places  would  afford 
us  a  key  to  all  Canada.  There  is,  if  the  accounts  are 
to  be  depended  upon,  not  more  than  twenty  soldiers  at 
each  fort.  There  are  a  large  number  of  cannon,  and  I 
hear  four  as  excellent  brass  cannon  as  we  could  wish. 
Should  success  attend  the  expedition,  we  expect  a 
strong  reinforcement  will  be  sent  from  the  western 
part  of  Connecticut,  to  keep  thoSQ  forts,  and  to  repair 
and  fortify  them  well. 

We  have  had  much  work  here  of  late  with  the  tories, 
A  dark  plot  has  been  discovered  of  sending  names 
down  to  Gen.  Gage,  in  consequence  of  which,  and  the 


LETTEK    TO     GEN.     POMSBOTi  131 

critical  situation  of  the  times,  we  have  been  compelled 
to  act  with  vigor,  and  have  sent  Mr.  Jones  and  Graves 
to  Northampton  goal,  where  they  now  lie  in  close  con- 
finement, and  have  sent  a  hue  and  cry  after  Maj.  Stod- 
dard and  Mr.  Little,  who  have  fled  to  New  York  for 
shelter.  We  hope  it  will  not  be  long  before  they  are 
taken  into  custody,  and  committed  to  close  confine- 
ment. 

"  Our  tories  are  the  worst  in  the  Province — all  the 
effect  the  late  and  present  operations  have  had  upon 
them  is,  they  are  mute  and  pensive,  and  secretly  ivish 
for  more  prosperous  days  to  toryism.  As  to  your  im- 
portant operations,  sir,  you  have  the  fervent  prayers 
of  all  good  men  that  success  may  attend  them.  I 
hope  God  will  inspire  you  with  wisdom  from  above  in 
all  your  deliberations,  and  your  soldiers  with  courage 
and  fortitude,  and  that  Boston  will  speedily  be  deliv- 
ered into  your  hands — the  General  thereof,  and  all  the 
king's  troops — that  that  den  of  thieves,  that  nest  of 
robbers,  that  asylum  for  traitors  and  murderers,  may 
be  broken  up,  and  never  another  red  coat  from  Eng- 
land set  foot  on  these  shores. 

"  I  have  been  concerned,  lest  General  Gage  should 
spread  the  small  pox  in  your  army.  May  heaven  pro- 
tect your  army  from  his  wicked  wiles.  May  you  be 
shielded,  sir,  in  the  day  of  battle,  and  obtain  a  com- 
plete victory  over  those  enemies  of  God  and  mankind. 
I  have  but  one  observation  to  make,  which  I  have  often 
made,  upon  the  histories  I  have  read,  and  then  I  must 
put  an  end  to  this  tedious  epistle — it  is  this  :  seldom 


132  THOMAS     ALLEN. 

or  never  do   the  greatest  generals  improve  a  victory 
when  it  is  obtained. 

"  I  am;  with  great  respect, 

"  Your  humble,  obedient  servant, 

"Thomas  Allen/' 

The  young  divine,  chairman  of  the  committee  of 
safety  and  correspondence,  is  closely  watched,  and  his 
name  sent  down  to  Gen.  Gage  as  the  most  dangerous 
character  to  the  king's  cause  in  the  western  part  of  the 
Colony.  He  is  a  marked  man  ;  and  his  clerical  pro- 
fession will  not  save  his  neck  from  the  halter,  if  he 
once  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy  ;  but,  instead 
of  being  alarmed  by  these  secret  efforts  to  accomplish 
his  destruction,  he  marks  the  conspirators,  puts  some 
of  them  in  chains,  and  drives  others  over  the  border 
in  affright.  Though  by  profession  a  man  of  peace,  in 
this  great  struggle  he  is  a  man  of  blood.  Active  and 
keen,  his  knowledge  extends  everywhere,  and  his  blow 
falls  quick  and  sudden  as  a  bolt  from  heaven.  Plot- 
ting tories  are  struck  in  the  midst  of  their  conspira- 
cies, and  while  they  are  sending  his  name  to  Gen.  Gage 
for  future  reference,  he  sends  them  to  prison. 

The  closing  sentence  of  this  letter  is  significant.  lie 
is  afraid  of  temporizing  measures — that  victory  would 
be  followed  by  delays,  in  hopes  of  adjusting  matters 
without  farther  bloodshed.  His  theory  is  the  one 
Bonaparte  carried  out  triumphantly — follow  up  a  suc- 
cessful blow  with  strokes  so  rapid  that  the  staggered 
enemy  will  not  have  time  to  recover.  It  is  a  delicate 
hint,  and  well  worth  attending  to.     This  letter  reveals 


LETTER    TO    GEN.     POMEROY,  133 

a  characteristic  that  belonged  to  all  the  patriotic 
clergy  of  that  day — belief  that  faith  and  works  must 
go  together.  While  leaving  no  stone  unturned  to 
secure  the  ends  he  has  in  view,  he  yet  looks  upward 
for  the  blessing  of  heaven,  without  which  all  his  labors 
he  knows  will  be  in  vain. 

Five  days  after  this  he  writes  again  to  Gen.  Pome- 
roy, evidently  in  answer  to  a  letter  he  has  received 
from  him,  asking  for  information.  This  correspond- 
ence shows  that  Mr.  Allen  was  looked  upon  as  the 
leading  patriot  in  the  part  of  Massachusetts  where  he 
resided,  and  that  in  addition  to  the  duties  of  the  par- 
ish, he  had  on  his  shoulders  the  charge  of  the  political 
movements  of  the  county. 

The  second  letter  to  Gen.  Pomeroy  is  dated  : 

"Pittsfield,  May  9th,  1775. 

"  Gen.  Pomeroy  : 

"  Sir — I  shall  esteem  it  a  great  happiness  if  I  can 
communicate  any  intelligence  to  you  that  shall  be  of 
any  service  to  my  country.  In  my  last  I  wrote  to  you 
of  the  northern  expedition.  Before  this  week  ends  we 
are  in  raised  hopes  here  of  hearing  that  Ticonderoga 
and  Crown  Point  are  in  other  hands.  Whether  the 
expedition  fails  or  succeeds,  I  will  send  you  the  most 
early  intelligence,  as  I  look  on  it  as  an  affair  of  great 
importance. 

"  Solomons,  the  Indian  king  at  Stockbridge,  "was 
lately  at  Col.  Easton's,  of  this  town,  and  said  that  the 
Mohawks  had  not  only  given  liberty  to  the  Stock- 
bridge  Indians  to  join  us,  but  had  sent  them  a  belt, 


134  THOMAS     ALLEN. 

denoting  that  they  would  hold  in  readiness  five  hun- 
dred men  to  join  us  immediately  on  the  first  notice, 
and  that  the  said  Solomons  holds  an  Indian  post  in 
actual  readiness  to  run  with  the  news  as  soon  as  they 
shall  be  wanted.  Should  the  council  of  war  judge  it 
necessary  to  send  to  them,  after  being  better  informed 
of  the  matter  by  Capt.  Goodrich,  now  in  the  service, 
if  you  should  issue  out  your  orders  to  Col.  Easton,  I 
make  no  doubt  that  he  would  bring  them  down  soon. 
These  Indians  might  be  of  great  service,  should  the 
king's  troops  march  out  of  Boston,  as  some  think  they 
undoubtedly  will  upon  the  arrival  of  their  recruits, 
and  give  us  battle. 

"  Our  militia  this  way  are  vigorously  preparing  for 
actual  service  —  adjacent  towns  and  this  town  are 
bringing  arms  and  ammunition.  There  is  plenty  of 
arms  to  be  sold  at  Albany  as  yet,  but  we  hear,  by 
order  of  the  major,  no  powder  is  to  be  sold  for  the 
present  there.  The  spirit  of  liberty  runs  high  there, 
as  you  have  doubtless  heard  by  their  post  to  our  head- 
quarters. I  have  exerted  myself  to  disseminate  the 
same  spirit  in  King's  district,  which  has  of  late  taken 
surprising  effect.  The  poor  tories  at  Kinderhook  are 
mortified  and  grieved,  and  are  wheeling  about,  and 
begin  to  take  the  quick  step.  New  York  government 
begins  to  be  alive  in  the  glorious  cause,  and  to  act  with 
vigor.  Some  this  way  6ay  that  the  king's  troops  will 
carry  off  all  the  plate,  merchandise,  and  plunder  from 
the  town  of  Boston,  to  pay  them  fur  their  ignominious 
expedition,  which,  in  my  opinion,  would  not  be  at  all 


LETTER    TO    GEN.     POMEROY.  135 

inconsistent  with  the  shameful  principles  of  those  who 
sent  them  on  so  inglorious  an  expedition. 

"I  fervently  pray,  sir,  that  our  Council  of  War  may 
be  inspired  with  wisdom  from  above,  to  direct  the 
warlike  enterprise  with  prudence,  discretion,  and  vigor. 
0,  may  your  councils  of  deliberation  be  under  the 
guidance  and  blessing  of  heaven.  Since  I  began  to 
write,  an  intelligent  person,  who  left  Ticonderoga  Sat- 
urday before  last,  informs  me  that,  having  went  through 
there  and  Crown  Point  about  three  weeks  ago,  all  were 
secure,  but  on  his  return  he  found  they  were  alarmed 
with  our  expedition,  and  would  not  admit  him  into 
the  fort — that  there  were  twelve  soldiers  at  Crown 
Point,  and  he  judged  near  two  hundred  at  Ticonde- 
roga— that  those  forts  were  out  of  repair  and  much  in 
ruins — that  it  was  his  opinion  that  our  men  would  un- 
doubtedly be  able  to  take  them,  and  that  he  met  our 
men  last  Thursday,  who  were  well  furnished  with 
cattle  and  wagons  laden  with  provisions  and  in  good 
spirits,  who  he  supposed  would  arrive  there  last  Sab- 
bath day,  and  he  doubted  not  that  this  week  they 
would  be  in  possession  of  those  forts.  He  informed  • 
them  where  they  might  find  plenty  of  ball,  and  there 
are  cannon  enough  at  Crown  Point  which  they  can  not 
secure  from  us.  That  he  saw  the  old  Sow,0  from  Cape 
Breton,  and  a  number  of  good  brass  cannon,  at  Ticon- 
deroga. Should  the  expedition  succeed,  and  should 
the  Council  of  War  send  up  their  order  for  the  people 
this  way,  to  transport  by  land  twenty  or  thirty  of  the 

*  Taken  at  tlio  sic^e  of  Louisburg. 


13G  THOMAS     ALLEN. 

Lest  of  the  cannon  to  head  quarters,  I  doubt  not  but 
the  people  in  this  country  would  do  it  with  expedition. 
We  could  easily  collect  a  thousand  yoke  of  cattle  for 
the  business. 

"  Since  I  wrote  the  last  paragraph,  an  express  has 
arrived  from  Benedict  Arnold,  commander  of  the  forces 
against  Ticonderoga  for  recruits,  in  consequence  of 
which  orders  are  issued  out  for  a  detachment  of 
eighteen  men  of  each  company  in  this  regiment  to 
inarch  immediately,  wrho  will  be  on  their  way  this  day. 
"  I  am  with  great  respect,  sir, 

"  Your  humble  servant, 

"  Thomas  Allen/' 

This  letter  shows  how  complicated  and  extensive 
was  the  business  devolving  on  Mr.  Allen.  He  ascer- 
tains the  state  of  things  at  Ticonderoga  and  Crown 
Point — finds  where  ammunition  can  be  obtained,  cor- 
responds with  New  York,  goes  over  in  person  to  the 
"King's  District/'  and  gives  the  "  glorious  cause" 
there  a  fresh  impulse — furnishes  important  informa- 
tion respecting  the  attitude  of  the  Indians,  anticipates 
the  need  there  will  be  at  Boston  for  the  cannon  in 
Ticonderoga,  and  offers  to  collect  a  thousand  ypke  of 
cattle  to  transport  •them  thither;  and  while  in  the 
midst  of  all  this,  he  is  arrested  by  the  arrival  of  an 
express  from  Arnold  demanding  recruits,  and  stops 
lon^  enough  to  add  that  eighteen  men  from  each  com- 
pany  are  detailed  for  the  service. 

The  next  day,  Ticonderoga  surrendered  to  Ethan 
Allen,  creating  great  exultation  throughout  the  New 


JOINS     THE     ARMY     AS     CHAPLAIN.        137 

England  Colonies.  Thomas  Allen  sent  off  his  posts 
in  every  direction,  speeding  the  glad  news. 

Throughout  the  summer  that  followed,  Washington 
laid  close  siege  to  Boston.  He  was,  however,  very 
much  crippled  in  his  operations  for  want  of  cannon, 
and  next  winter  Knox  volunteered  to  go  to  Ticonde- 
roga,  and  transport  some  of  those  in  the  fort  across 
the  country.  Had  Allen's  proposition  been  accepted 
in  May,  they  would  have  been  at  Boston  as  soon  as 
Washington  was. 

Knox  took  no  means  of  transportation  from  the 
army,  relying  entirely  on  the  inhabitants  of  the  west- 
ern frontier  to  furnish  them.  Allen  was  foremost  in 
responding  to  his  call,  and  soon  a  train  of  forty-two 
sleds,  laden  with  over  fifty  guns  and  two  thousand 
pounds  of  lead,  was  seen  slowly  traversing  the  wilder- 
ness towards  Boston.  In  a  short  time  they  were 
frowning  from  Dorchester  Heights,  and  under  their 
stern  and  threatening  aspect  the  British  fleet  dropped 
down  the  bay,  and  the  city  became  untenable. 

After  the  battle  of  Long  Island  and  the  Ml  of 
New  York,  which  sent  much  discouragement  through- 
out the  land,  Allen  could  no  longer  remain  at  home 
an  idle  spectator  of  the  conflict,  and  set  out  for  the 
army  at  Kingsbridge,  and  offered  his  services  as 
chaplain. 

In  the  movements  and  battles  that  followed  after 
the  army  broke  up  its  position  at  Harlaem  Heights, 
until  it  commenced  its  sad  retreat  through  New  Jer- 
sey, he  bore  a  conspicuous  part.  Like  Gano  and  oth- 
ers, he  did  not  consider  his  duty  limited  to  preaching 


138  THOMAS     ALLEN. 

to  the  soldiers  and  praying  with  them,  but  felt  called 
upon  to  furnish  an  example  of  courage  in  danger,  and 
endurance  under  privations. 

A  part  of  a  journal  kept  by  him  at  this  time 
has  been  preserved  by  one  of  his  descendants,  now  re- 
siding in  Pittsfield,  in  which  we  get  transient  gleams 
of  his  life  in  camp.  Among  others  we  find  such 
/entries  as  the  following,  evidently  made  in  a  great 
hurry,  and  jotted  down  perhaps  on  the  head  of  a  drum 
or  the  crown  of  his  hat. 

"October  23c7,  at  White  Plains.  —  I  saw  our  men 
brin£in£  in  a  Hessian  on  a  sort  of  bier,  who  was  wound- 
ed  in  the  leg.  There  had  been  an  action  just  before, 
between  a  party  of  our  men  and  the  enemy — we  killed 
between  ten  and  twenty  of  the  enemy,  and  took  two 
prisoners,  whom  I  saw.  The  Hessian's  leg  was  broken 
— as  he  was  brought  in  the  multitude  behaved  badly. 
The  Hessian  behaved  well,  took  off  his  hat  to  the 
crowd.  He  was  a  rifleman,  dressed  in  green  faced 
with  white — was  very  dark,  owing  to  his  long  voyage 
of  twenty  weeks,  had  arrived  only  three  weeks  be- 
fore/' 

Oct.  24. —  At  night  struck  our  tents  —  moved  off 
four  miles  towards  White  Plains — this  night  encamped 
without  a  tent  upon  the  ground.'' 

Oct.  25. — All  day  under  arms,  in  continual  expecta- 
tion of  OD  attack  from  the  enemy,  who  appeared,  par- 
aded in  sight,  marching  and  countermarching — a  great 
battle  expected  to  be  at  the  door.  Night  after  this 
day  lay  also  on  the  ground  under  a  brush  shelter/' 


BATTLE  OF  WHITE  PLAINS.     139 

Saturday \  Oct.  26. — Sun  rose  clear,  the  enemy  near 
— a  great  battle  drawing  on." 

The  latter  part  of  October,  with  its  frosty  nights, 
was  not  a  good  time  for  a  young  clergyman  to  begin 
sleeping  on  the  ground,  in  the  open  air.  Yet  to  one 
in  whose  bosom  the  fire  of  patriotism  burned  with 
such  a  fervent  glow  as  in  his,  these  privations  and  ex- 
posures were  un thought  of,  and  do  not  receive  a  pass- 
ing notice.     He  says  : — 

"  Yesterday  forgot  to  dine.  This  day  made  an  ex- 
cellent dinner  on  bread  and  butter  only — being  in  a 
continual  expectation  of  a  cannonade  from  the  enemy, 
who  now  lay  in  plain  sight  at  the  distance  of  little 
more  than  half  a  mile." 

He  is  not  a  mile  or  two  from  camp,  in  the  hospital 
with  the  surgeons,  but  in  full  view  of  the  enemy, 
snatching  his  dinner  of  bread  and  butter,  with  his  eye 
watching  the  gleaming  lines  and  the  long  rows  of  can- 
non within  point  blank  shot,  and  whose  thunders  may 
at  any  moment  bring  his  frugal  repast  to  a  close. 

"  Kindled  up  our  fires  after  dark,  and  began  our  re- 
treat, with  General  Bell's  brigade  in  the  most  excel- 
lent order — keeping  out  our  flank  guards,  etc." 

"  Lord's-day,  Oct.  27. — Arrived  at  break  of  day  at 
White  Plains,  having  performed  a  march  of  above 
twelve  miles  in  the  night.  Lay  down  after  daylight 
for  sleep  on  the  ground/' 

They  had  not  lain  long  before  the  sharp  rattle  of 


140  TnOMAS     ALLEN. 

musketry  roused  them  from  their  repose,  and  the 
march  recommenced.  The  balls  flew  thick  around  the 
chaplain,  but  the  only  remark  he  makes  about  it  is — 
"  Encamped  on  White  Plains  in  our  tent,  having  been 
marvellously  preserved  in  our  retreat"  "  Dr.  Wright, 
of  New  Marlborough,  was  buried  this  day— such  a  con- 
fused Sabbath  I  never  saw/' 

The  retreat  under  fire — the  booming  of  cannon  at 
intervals — shouts  and  orders  of  officers — the  pealing 
bugle  and  the  fierce  roll  of  the  drum — giving  way  at 
last  to  the  almost  equally  great  tumult  of  pitching  the 
camp,  might  well  make  a  Sabbath  day  long  to  be  re- 
membered. The  whistling  of  bullets  near  him  had 
more  than  once  reminded  him  from  what  a  scene  of 
confusion  he  might,  in  a  moment,  be  called  away  to 
the  still  land,  where  the  tread  of  armies  is  never  heard, 
and  the  sound  of  battle  never  comes. 

In  the  battle  of  the  28th  he  occupied  a  position 
where  he  could  see  distinctly  every  movement  of  the 
hostile  line,  and  towards  the  close  of  it,  when  the  mili- 
tia under  Gen.  McDougal  fled,  he,  in  his  eagerness  to 
help  save  the  army  from  defeat,  hurried  forward  to 
offer  his  services  as  a  volunteer. 

One  sees  occasionally  in  Mr.  Allen's  letters  and  jour- 
nal that,  in  his  earlier  days,  he  had  read  military  his- 
tory with  more  than  ordinary  care.  This  is  evident  from 
the  following  short  entry  in  his  diary,  in  which  he  un- 
consciously reminds  us  that,  amid  the  terrific  cannonade 
and  rattle  of  small  arms,  and  smoke  and  confusion  of 
the  conflict,  he  forgot  every  thing  in  the  manocuvering 
of  the  two  armies — looking  to  that  more  than  to  the 


BATTLE     OF     WHITE     PLAINS.  141 

effect  of  the  cannonade,  as  indicative  of  the  final  re- 
sult : — 

"Oct.  28. — About  9  o'clock,  a.m.,  the  enemy  and 
our  out  parties  were  engaged  ;  about  10,  they  appeared 
in  plain  sight,  falling  off  towards  our  right  wing.  A 
strong  cannonade  ensued  from  both  armies.  A  great 
part  of  the  enemy's  strength  seemed  bent  towards  our 
right  wing,  but  no  additional  force  of  ours  was  as  yet 
directed  that  zvay. 

"  At  length  the  enemy  came  up  with  our  right  wing, 
and  a  most  furious  engagement  ensued  by  cannonnade 
and  small  arms,  which  lasted  towards  two  hours.  Our 
wing  was  situated  on  a  hill,0  and  consisted  of,  perhaps, 
something  more  than  a  brigade  of  Maryland  forces. 
The  cannonades  and  small  arms  played  most  furiously 
without  cessation — I  judge  more  than  twenty- three 
cannon  in  a  minute. 

"  At  length  a  reinforcement  of  Gen.  Bell's  brigade 
was  ordered  from  an  adjacent  hill,  where  I  was.  I 
had  an  inclination  to  go  with  them  to  the  hill,  that  I 
might  more  distinctly  see  the  battle,  and  perhaps  con- 
tribute my  mite  to  our  success.  Just  as  we  began  to 
ascend  the  hill,  we  found  our  men  had  given  way,  and 
were  moving  off  the  hill  in  some  confusion,  at  which 
some  elevated  shots  from  the  enemy  came  into  the  val- 
ley where  we  were  very  thick — one  of  which  took  off 
the  fore  part  of  a  man's  foot  in  about  three  rods  of  me. 
I  saw  the  ball  strike,  and  the  man  fall ;  as  none  ap- 
peared for  his  help,  I  desired  five  or  six  of  those  who 

*  Chatterton's  Hill. — Editor. 


142  THOMAS     ALLEN. 

had  been  in  battle  to  carry  him  off.  Others  I  saw  car- 
rying off  wounded  in  different  directions.  With  the 
rest  I  retreated  to  the  main  body.  Our  men  fought 
with  great  bravery  ;  they  were  sore  galled  by  the  ene- 
my's field- pieces/' 

The  whole  British  force  now  drew  up  before  the  for- 
tified heights,  on  which  Washington  lay,  but  dared 
not  attempt  to  carry  them  until  the  arrival  of  rein- 
forcements on  the  30th,  when  it  was  resolved  to  move 
en  masse  on  the  position.  But  that  night  a  terrific 
storm  of  wind  and  rain  set  in,  and  when  it  cleared 
away,  Washington  quietly  withdrew  with  his  army  to 
North  Castle.  The  wind  roared  fiercely  through  the 
Highlands,  fanning  into  greater  fury  the  flames  of  the 
burning  village,  which  lighted  their  pathway  over  the 
hills. 

How  long  he  remained  with  the  main  army  after  this 
is  not  known,  but  it  is  evident  that  the  formidable  move- 
ments on  our  northern  frontier  soon  called  him  thither; 
for,  when  the  news  of  Burgoync's  invasion  was  spread- 
ing consternation  over  the  country,  we  find  him  at 
Ticonderoga,  where  St.  Clair  was  posted  to  arrest  the 
progress  of  the  invader.  Believing  in  his  courageous 
soul,  that  Burgoync's  powerful  expedition  would  be 
broken  in  pieces  against  this  strong  fortress,  he  looked 
forward  in  high  spirits  to  the  day  of  its  arrival  before 
it.  He  animated  the  men  by  his  patriotic  appeals, 
and  promised  them  that  he  would  fight  and  fall  by 
their  side.  lie  would  not  only  pray  with  them,  but 
die  with  them.    He  saw  the  deep  design  of  the  British 


GOES     TO     TICONDEKOGA.  143 

in  this  formidable  movement,  and  felt  that  its  success 
would  be  a  death  blow  to  the  Colonies.  He  believed 
it,  therefore,  to  be  the  duty  of  every  man,  to  die  in  his 
place  rather  than  to  suffer  the  enemy  to  pass  this  bar- 
rier, the  only  one  of  importance  that  crossed  his  march 
to  the  heart  of  New  York  State.  He  for  one  was  wil- 
ling then  and  there  to  offer  himself  up  a  sacrifice  to 
his  country,  and  he  called  on  all  to  follow  his  example. 
They  might  be  overborne,  but  even  in  their  death  in- 
flict, like  Sampson,  a  mortal  blow  on  the  enemy. 

His  feelings  and  determination  at  this  fearful  crisis 
in  our  history,  as  they  are  exhibited  in  an  address  he 
made  to  the  soldiers,  when  the  enemy  was  drawn  up 
in  battle  array  before  them,  and  an  attack  was  mo- 
mentarily expected,  challenge  our  highest  admiration. 
The  American  outposts  towards  Lake  George,  after  a 
mere  show  of  resistance,  had  been  driven  in.  The 
enemy  had  covered  Mount  Hope  with  artillery  that 
completely  commanded  the  road  in  that  direction, 
while  artillery,  and  ammunition,  and  stores  wrere  being 
hurried  rapidly  forward.  The  "  Thunderer,"  with  the 
battery  train,  had  come  up,  and  anchored  in  full  view, 
while,  to  complete  their  dismay,  the  sun,  as  it  rose  on 
the  morning  of  the  5th  over  the  eastern  hills,  lit  up 
the  summit  of  Mount  Defiance  glowing  in  scarlet  uni- 
forms, while  between,  a  long  row  of  heavy  brass  cannon 
flashed  in  the  early  light,  and  looked  threateningly 
down  into  the  uncovered  works.  This  fearful  appari- 
tion had  come  in  the  night  time,  and  as  the  officers 
gazed  on  it,  they  were  filled  with  consternation,  and 
St.  Clair  immediately  called  a  council  of  war, — for  an 


144  THOMAS     ALLEN. 

attack  was  momentarily  expected.  Mr.  Allen,  too, 
gazed  on  the  alarming  spectacle,  but  while  the  council 
of  war  was  discussing  the  best  plan  of  retreat,  he 
mounted  the  platform  of  a  gun,  and  turning  to  the 
soldiers  drawn  up  in  battle  array,  strove  to  arouse 
them  to  meet  the  coming  shock  like  men.  Every  eye 
was  turned  on  that  frowning  eminence,  expecting  each 
instant  to  see  the  white  puffs  of  smoke  herald  the  iron 
storm  that  should  send  death  amid  their  ranks.  In 
this  fearful  moment,  wThen  the  fate  of  the  Colonies,  as 
he  believed,  rested  on  their  conduct  in  the  next  few 
hours,  he  thus  addressed  them  : 

"Valiant  soldiers!  Yonder"  (pointing  to  the  en- 
emy that  lay  in  sight)  "  are  the  enemies  of  your  coun- 
try, who  have  come  to  lay  waste,  and  destroy,  and 
spread  havoc  and  devastation  through  this  pleasant 
land.  They  are  enemies  hired  to  do  the  work  of  death, 
and  have  no  motive  to  animate  them  in  their  under- 
taking. You  have  every  consideration  to  induce  you 
to  play  the  man,  and  act  the  part  of  valiant  soldiers. 
Your  country  looks  up  to  you  for  its  defence.  You 
arc  contending  for  your  wives,  whether  you  or  they 
shall  enjoy  them.  You  are  fighting  for  your  children, 
whether  they  shall  be  yours  or  theirs  —  your  houses 
and  lands — for  your  flocks  and  herds,  for  your  freedom, 
for  future  generations,  for  every  thing  that  is  great 
and  noble,  on  account  of  which  only  life  itself  is  worth 
a  fig.  Y<>u  must,  you  will  abide  the  day  of  trial. 
You  can  not  give  back,  whilst  animated  by  these  con- 
siderations. 


ADDRESS     TO     THE     SOLDIERS.  145 

"Suffer  me;  therefore,  on  this  occasion  to  recom- 
mend to  you,  without  delay,  to  break  off  your  sins  by 
righteousness,  and  your  iniquity  by  turning  unto  the 
Lord.  Turn  ye,  turn  ye,  ungodly  sinners  ;  for  why 
will  ye  die  ?  Eepcnt,  lest  the  Lord  come  and  smite 
you  with  a  curse.  Our  camp  is  filled  with  blasphem- 
ers, and  resounds  with  the  lamma^e  of  the  infernal 
regions.  Oh  !  that  officers  and  men  misrht  fear  to  take 
the  holy  and  tremendous  name  of  God  in  vain.  Oh  ! 
that  you  would  now  return  to  the  Lord,  lest  destruc- 
tion should  come  upon  you,  lest  vengeance  overtake 
you.  Oh  !  that  you  were  wise,  that  you  understood 
this  your  latter  end. 

u  I  must  recommend  to  you  the  strictest  attention  to 
your  duty,  and  the  most  punctual  obedience  to  your 
officers.  Discipline,  order  and  regularity  are  the 
strength  of  an  army. 

"  Valiant  Soldiers  !  should  our  enemy  attack  us, 
I  exhort  and  conjure  you  to  play  the  man.  Let  no 
danger  appear  too  great — let  no  suffering  appear  too 
severe  for  you  to  encounter  for  your  bleeding  country. 
God's  grace  assisting  me,  I  am  determined  to  fight  and 
die  by  your  side,  rather  than  fee  be/ore  oar  enemies, 
or  resign  myself  to  them. 

"  Prefer  death  to  captivity.  Ever  remember  your 
unhappy  brethren,  made  prisoners  at  Fort  Washington, 
whose  blood  now  crieth  to  heaven  for  vengeance,  and 
shakes  the  pillars  of  the  world,  saying,  c  How  long,  0 
Lord  holy  and  true,  dost  thou  not  charge  our  blood  on 
them  that  dwell  on  the  earth/ 

"Bather  than  quit  this  ground  tvith  infamy  and 
7  " 


146  rflOHAfl     ALLEN. 

disgrace,  I  should  prefer  leaving  this  body  of  mine  a 
corpse  on  the  sj^ot. 

CiI  must  finally  recommend  it  to  you,  and  urge  it 
on  you  again  and  again,  in  time  of  action  to  keep 
silence.  Let  all  be  hushed  and  calm,  serene  and  tran- 
quil, that  the  word  of  command  may  he  distinctly 
heard,  and  resolutely  obeyed,  and  may  the  God  of 
heaven  take  us  all  under  his  protection,  and  cover  our 
heads  in  the  day  of  battle,  and  grant  unto  us  his  sal- 
vation/' 

Noble  and  brave  heart  !  how  little  he  thought  that 
at  that  very  moment,  when  he  was  pouring  his  own 
heroic  spirit  into  the  troops,  and  nerving  them  to  the 
high  resolution  to  stand  or  die  at  their  posts,  saying 
that  he  would  stand  and  die  with  them,  it  had  been 
resolved  in  a  council  of  war  to  abandon  those  strong 
works,  the  key  of  the  north,  and  retreat  through  the 
wilderness. 

The  announcement  of  this  decision  fell  like  a  thun- 
derbolt upon  him.  It  is  difficult  to  say  whether 
despair  or  scorn  predominated  in  his  bosom,  when  he 
saw  the  army  defile  out  of  the  works — leaving  all  the 
artillery,  ammunition  and  baggage  behind,  the  prey  of 
the  enemy — and  take  up  its  precipitate,  disorderly 
flight  southward.  A  catastrophe,  so  sudden  and  un- 
expected, overwhelmed  him.  It  seemed  a  dream  that 
those  strong  defences,  so  gallantly  won  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  revolution  by  a  handful  of  brave  men,  and 
hitherto  so  firmly  held,  could  be  abandoned  without 
one  blow  being  struck  for  their  preservation;  and  arms 


LEAVES     THE     ARMY.  147 

and  stores,  gathered  with  such  expense  and  care,  aban- 
doned to  the  proud  and  exultant  foe.  It  had  never  oc- 
curred to  him  that  the  commanding  officers  would  bo 
found  wanting  in  this  terrible  crisis  ;  hence,  all  his 
efforts  had  been  with  the  men,  to  make  them,  who 
were  unaccustomed  to  the  sight  of  carnage  and  the 
shock  of  arms,  firm  and  steadfast.  And  when  the  in- 
famous deed  was  done,  he  did  not  stop  to  consider 
what  rules  of  the  martinet  had  influenced  the  officers 
in  their  action.  It  was  enough  for  him  that  the  guns, 
shotted  and  primed,  slept  dumb  in  their  places,  and 
were  not  allowed  to  speak  for  freedom. 

He  was  one  of  those  men  who  did  not  look  upon  de- 
feat as  the  most  direful  calamity  that  could  happen. 
A  great  example  was  next  in  value  to  a  great  victory 
to  a  country  struggling  to  be  free.  A  fierce-fought 
battle,  though  disastrous,  made  heroes,  while  a  dis- 
graceful, hasty  retreat  made  cowards.  Thermopyla3 
did  as  much  for  Greece  as  Platgea  ;  and  Leonidas 
made  more  heroes  than  Pausanias.  He  had  told  Gen. 
Pomeroy  that  "  in  his  reading  of  history  he  had  no- 
ticed that  great  generals  seldom  if  ever  made  proper 
use  of  victory/'  he  had  also  seen  that  without  conflicts 
troops  are  never  made  brave. 

He  did  not  retreat  with  the  army  to  Saratoga,  and 
though  it  does  not  appear  at  what  point,  or  how  ho 
left  it,  it  is  evident  he  took  his  departure  with  feelings 
of  the  deepest  disgust.  He  would  not  stay  with  an 
army,  whose  commanding  officers  he  considered  pol- 
troons, and  more  worthy  of  court  martial  than  of  posi- 
tions of  trust.     He  returned  home  discouraged  and  in- 


148  THOMAS     ALLEN. 

dignant.  lie  felt  that  had  he  commanded  at  Ticon- 
deroga,  its  ramparts,  though  carried  at  last  by  the 
overwhelming  foe,  would  first  have  been  baptised  in 
blood. 

That  these  feelings  were  not  an  ebullition  of  the 
moment,  but  the  result  of  calm  and  sober  reflection, 
is  evident  from  the  following  note,  appended  to  the 
above  address,  and  written  several  weeks  after,  and 
subsequent  to  the  battle  of  Bennington. 

"  In  about  five  hours  afterwards,"  he  scornfully 
writes,  "  the  garrison  was  evacuated,  and  our  vast 
army  fleeing  before  their  enemies  with  the  utmost  pre- 
cipitation and  irregularity,  leaving  behind,  for  the  use 
of  the  enemy,  an  immense  amount  of  baggage,  artil- 
lery, ammunition,  provisions,  and  every  warlike  neces- 
sary. c  How  are  the  mighty  fallen,  and  the  weapons 
of  war  perished  V  A  short  time  will  decide  the  fate 
of  America.  It  must  depend  on  the  treatment  of  those 
five  general  officers  icho  gave  up  Ticonderoga,  and 
and  those  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  tory  traitors, 
taken  in  the  militia  battle  near  Bennington.  If  these 
can  not  be  brought  to  justice,  then  am  I  ready  to  2^0- 
nounce  what  is}  in  my  Opinion,  the  sad  doom  of  these 
states — the  end  is  come.  c  Your  end  is  come,  your  de- 
struction draweth  nigh/ 

"  Justice  is  one  of  the  pillars  of  civil  government, 
without  which  it  can  not  exist  and  last  amongst 
them." 

These  views  did  not  spring  from  a  naturally  fierce 
and  warlike  spirit,  for  he  was  distinguished  for  the 
kindliness  of  his  nature,  and  the  warmth  and  tender- 


BALLIES     THE     MILITIA.  149 

ness  of  his  feelings,  but  from  his  judgment ;  for,  like 
the  clergy  generally  of  New  England,  he  was  thorough- 
ly versed  in  the  history  of  nations,  and  was  governed 
by  views,  more  comprehensive  and  statesmanlike,  than 
those  whose  knowledge  was  confined  to  technical  mili- 
tary rules. 

Though  Mr.  Allen  returned  home,  disgusted  with  St. 
Clair,  the  moment  he  received  the  call  of  Stark,  asking 
the  Berkshire  militia  to  rally  to  the  defence  of  Ben- 
nington, against  which  Col.  Baum  with  his  band  of 
Hessians  was  advancing,  all  his  old  energy  returned. 
He  knew  Stark,  and  that  wherever  he  commanded 
there  would  be  fierce  fighting,  whatever  the  result 
might  be.  This  gallant  officer,  though  smarting  under 
the  insulting  conduct  of  Congress,  that  did  not  hesitate 
to  appoint  and  promote  inferior  officers,  and  neglect 
good  ones,  still  loved  his  country.  He  would  not 
serve  under  a  Congress  that  he  despised,  but  he  would 
keep  his  own  state  from  the  foot  of  the  invader. 

Allen  took  an  active  part  in  rallying  the  Berkshire 
militia  to  his  aid,  and  accompanied  them  in  their  rapid 
march  to  his  camp,  which  they  reached  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  16th  of  August,  just  before  daylight.  They 
arrived-  in  a  pouring  thunder-shower,  and  though 
drenched  to  the  skin,  Mr.  Allen  immediately  sought 
an  interview  with  Stark.  Still  smarting  under  the 
disgrace  of  Ticonderoga,  the  brave  divine  this  time  de- 
termined not  to  waste  his  efforts  on  the  soldiers,  but 
to  tell  the  commander  beforehand,  that  they  had  not 
obeyed  his  call,  and  marched  thither  to  join  in  an  ig- 
nominious retreat,  but  to  Jiglit.     He  therefore  said  to 


150  THOMAS     ALLEN. 

him,  plainly  and  bluntly,  "  Gen.  Stark,  the  Berkshire 
militia  have  often  been  summoned  to  the  field,  -with- 
out being  allowed  to  fight  ;  now,  if  you  don't  give 
them  a  chance  this  time,  they  will  never  turn  out 
again/'  Stark,  a  hero  himself,  loved  to  hear  the  ring 
of  the  true  metal,  and  was  amused  instead  of  offended 
at  the  gallant  bearing  and  outspoken  fearlessness  of 
the  young  clergyman,  and  smiling,  replied  :  "  Do  you 
wish  to  march  now,  while  it  is  dark  and  raining  ?" 
"No  ;  not  just  at  this  moment/'  "  Well  then,"  said 
the  former,  u  if  the  Lord  will  give  us  sunshine  to-mor- 
row, and  I  do  not  give  you  fighting  enough,  I  will 
never  ask  you  to  come  out  again/'  The  Lord  did  give 
them  sunshine,  and  the  morning-drum  roused  up  the 
soldier  to  as  beautiful  a  day  as  ever  blessed  the  world. 
A  brisk  west  wind  shook  the  rain  .drops  in  a  shower  of 
pearls  from  the  surrounding  forest — the  blue  sky  bent 
tranquilly  above  the  gentle  stream,  on  whose  banks 
they  stood  in  martial  array — and  all  wras  bright  and 
peaceful. 

During  the  forenoon,  while  the  several  columns  were 
marching  to  the  various  positions  assigned  them,  one 
of  the  militia  remarked  to  Mr.  Allen,  u  We  will  do 
our  own  fighting  to-day."  "  Yes,"  said  he,  "  we  shall 
have  a  good  time  at  the  enemy,  but  we  are  not  quite 
ready  yet,  we  must  first  join  in  prayer;'1  and  there, 
under  the  August  sky,  he  lifted  up  his  earnest  prayer, 
that  God  would  give  them  the  victory,  lie  had  no 
intention,  however,  of  doing  the  praying,  and  letting  his 
congregation  do  all  the  fighting,  lie  meant  to  fight 
himself,  and  if  the  example  of  their  pastor  could  make 


CARE     OP     THE    WOUNDED.  151 

them  brave,  he  resolved  there  should  he  no  cowards 
among  the  Berkshire  men  that  day.  When  they  came 
in  sight  of  the  Hessians,  and  just  before  the  attack 
commenced,  he  advanced  alone  in  front,  in  his  clerical 
gown,  and,  mounting  a  stump,  called  out  in  a  voice 
distinctly  heard  by  them,  to  surrender,  and  save  the 
effusion  of  blood,  promising  them  generous  treatment 
if  they  would.  The  only  reply  to  his  summons  was  a 
volley  of  musketry.  As  the  bullets  whistled  around 
his  ears,  one  passing  through  his  hat,  he  descended 
from  his  stump,  and  returned  to  the  ranks.  When 
the  battle  commenced,  he  did  as  he  had  resolved  to  do 
at  Ticonderoga,  if  the  commander  had  given  him  a 
chance  —  fought  in  the  ranks  with  the  soldiers.  Some 
of  his  parishioners  stood  around  him,  and  among 
them  a  brother.  Seeing  that  he  was  a  better  marks- 
man* than  his  brother,  he  said  to  him  in  the  midst  of 
the  battle,  "  Joe,  you  load,  and  I'll  fire,"  and  so  they 
fought  side  by  side  God's  own  battle  on  that  warm 
August  day.  At  the  final  charge  he  led  the  militia, 
and  was  among  the  first  over  the  breastworks,  and 
heard  with  an  exultant,  overflowing  heart  the  shout 
of  victory  go  up  from  the  blood-stained  heights. 

X o  sooner  was  the  battle  over  than  he  devoted  him- 
self, with  his  accustomed  tenderness  and  energy,  to  tho 
wounded.  Amid  the  Hessian  steeds  straying  over  the 
heights  without  masters,  he  came  across  a  surgeon's 
horse  loaded  with  panniers  of  wine.  While  the  others 
were  roaming  the  field  in  search  of  plunder,  he  seized 
on  these,  and  immediately  distributed  them  to  the 
wounded  and  weary,  and  moved  like  an  angel  of  mercy 


152  THOMAS     ALLEN. 

among  friends  and  foes  alike.  Two  large  square  crystal 
Lotties  he  carried  home  with  hini  as  trophies  of  the 
fight,  which  were  long  preserved  in  his  family  as  choice 
relics,  and  in  which  the  health  of  the  gallant  old  pa- 
triot was  often  drunk  in  the  juice  of  the  currant. 

The  night  succeeding  the  battle,  and  the  following 
day,  he  ministered  to  the  disabled  and  dying,  and  on 
the  third  day,  Saturday,  mounted  his  horse,  and  mak- 
ing a  long  journey,  reached  his  parish  that  night,  and 
preached  next  day.  It  is  a  pity  that  the  sermon  and 
services  of  that  Sabbath  have  not  been  preserved. 
They  would  doubtless  remind  one  of  the  song  of  Miriam 
that  rose  so  sublimely  from  the  shores  of  the  Red  Sea, 
strewn  with  the  wreck  of  Pharaoh's  host. 

This  great  battle  and  victory  were  the  theme  of  every 
tongue,  and  the  part  Mr.  Allen  bore  in  it  a  subject 
of  general  comment.  One  of  his  parishioners,  hearing 
that  he  had  fought  like  a  common  soldier,  came  to  him, 
and  inquired  if  it  was  so.  "  Yes/'  he  said,  "I  did,  it 
was  a  very  hot,  close  battle,  and  it  became  every  pa- 
triot to  do  his  duty/'  "  Well,  but/'  said  the  parish- 
ioner, "  Mr.  Allen,  did  you  hill  any  body  ?"  "  No,"  he ' 
replied.  "  I  don't  know  that  I  killed  any  body  ;  but  I 
happened  to  notice  a  frequent  Hash  from  behind  a 
certain  bush,  and  every  time  I  saw  that  flash  one  of 
our  men  fell.  I  took  aim  at  the  bush,  and  fired.  I 
don't  know  that  1  killed  any  body,  but  1  put  out  that 
jlaslty — Ah  !  but  for  t lie  clergy  of  New  England  it  is 
doubtful,  if  the  flash  of  the  enemy's  guns  in  the  Itcvo- 
llltion  would  ever  have  been  put  out  ! 

At  the  close  of  the  next  year,  his  brother  Moses,  of 


GOES     TO     GEORGIA.  153 

Georgia,  also  a  chaplain  in  the  army,  and  one  of  the 
most  influential,  uncompromising  patriots  in  the  State, 
and  fearless  like  himself,  was  taken  prisoner  in  the 
battle  before  Savannah,  where  he  exposed  himself  to 
the  hottest  of  the  fire,  and  with  unheard  of  brutality 
put  on  board  a  prison  ship.  Here  he  suffered  every 
indignity  that  could  be  conceived  for  weeks,  and  then 
threw  himself  overboard,  and  attempted  to  swim 
ashore.  Unequal  to  the  task  he  was  drowned,  leaving 
a  young  wife  and  infant  son  in  that  new  country,  with 
her  home  burned  to  the  ground,  and  the  congregation, 
amid  which  she  had  lived,  scattered  in  every  direction 
by  the  merciless  foe.  Thomas,  unwilling  to  leave  her 
thus  unprotected  and  alone,  determined  to  bring  her 
to  his  own  home.  This  was  not  so  easy  a  task,  but 
with  his  accustomed  energy,  that  never  would  permit 
obstacles,  however  formidable,  to  deter  him  from  a 
purpose  once  formed,  he  set  out  to  make  the  long  jour- 
ney on  horseback.  In  those  early  times  it  would  have 
been  sufficiently  arduous,  had  the  country  been  at 
peace,  and  the  most  public  thoroughfares  open  to  him. 
But,  with  the  country  distracted  by  war — all  the  cities 
of  the  sea  board  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  forcing 
him  to  skirt  the  dangerous  frontiers — it  was  one  full 
of  peril.  Of  the  hardships  he  underwent,  and  dangers 
he  escaped  in  this  journey,  there  remains  no  record — 
we  only  know  it  took  him  eleven  days  to  reach  Balti- 
more. They  were  sufficient,  it  seems,  to  prevent  him 
from  returning  the  same  way,  and  he  chose  the  nearly 
equally  dangerous  one  of  returning  by  water.  Pro- 
tected by  heaven,  however,  he  escaped  the  enemy's 


154  THOMAS     ALLEN. 

ships,  and  at  length  had  the  gratification  of  seeing  the 
widow  and  son  under  his  own  roof  in  Pittsfield. 

During  the  famous  u  Shay's  rebellion/1  which  reached 
to  his  own  county,  he  took  prompt  and  decided  ground 
on  the  side  of  government.  His  powerful  influence, 
which  the  insurgents  could  not  make  head  against, 
so  exasperated  them  that  they  openly  threatened  to 
seize  him,  and  carry  him  as  a  hostage  to  New  York 
State.  This  threat,  however,  was  easier  made  than 
executed.  A  man,  who  had  stood  unmoved  amid  the 
carnage  of  battle,  and  carried  his  life  in  his  hand 
through  the  long  struggle  of  the  Revolution,  was  not 
one  likely  to  yield  tamely  to  a  lawless  rabble.  He 
openly  defied  them,  and  slept  with  loaded  arms  in  his 
bed  room,  ready  to  shoot  down  the  first  miscreant  that 
dared  attempt  to  lay  hands  upon  him.  None  were 
found  willing  to  make  the  hazardous  experiment. 
They  thought  in  this  case  discretion  to  be  the  better 
part  of  valor,  and  let  him  alone. 

In  1799,  his  eldest  daughter,  who  had  married  Mr. 
Wm.  P.  White,  a  merchant  of  Boston,  died  in  London, 
leaving  an  infant  behind,  without  a  relative  in  the 
kingdom  to  care  for  it — her  husband  beinsr  in  the  East 
Indies  on  business.  His  heart,  great  as  his  courage, 
was  moved  by  the  friendless  condition  of  this  infant 
grandchild,  and  he  resolved  at  once  to  go  for  it.  His 
affections  were  strong  as  his  will,  and  when  impelled 
by  either,  it  was  no  common  obstacle  that  could  arrest 
him.  Bidding  his  congregation  an  affectionate  fare- 
well, he  embarked  on  board  the  ship  Argo  for  London. 
On  the  way  they  were  pursued  by  a  largo  vessel  which 


VOYAGE     TO     ENGLAND.  155 

they  took  to  be  a  French  ship  of  war.  The  captain 
was  alarmed,  and  assembled  all  on  board,  to  deliberate 
on  the  course  to  be  pursued.  After  a  short  consulta- 
tion, it  was  resolved  to  fight,  however  unequal  the 
contest  might  be  :  for  a  French  prison  could  only  be 
their  fate  if  conquered,  while  they  were  certain  to  be 
thrown  into  one  if  they  surrendered.  In  this  extrem- 
ity Mr.  Allen  requested  the  captain  to  let  him  pray 
with  the  men,  and  make  a  speech  to  them,  to  encour- 
age them  to  fight  bravely.  He  gave  his  consent,  and 
the  voice,  that  twenty  years  before  had  nerved  Amer- 
ican patriots  to  battle,  now  thrilled  the  hearts  of  that 
little  crew  on  the  broad  Atlantic.  The  frigate  contin- 
ued to  approach,  but  at  length,  to  their  great  joy,  she 
ran  up  the  British  ensign.  Mr.  Allen  then  assembled 
passengers  and  crew,  and  offered  up  fervent  thanksgiv- 
ing to  God  for  their  escape. 

In  England  he  formed  the  acquaintance  of  John 
Newton,  Rowland  Hill,  and  others,  through  whom 
his  warmest  sympathies  became  enlisted  in  the  subject 
of  foreign  missions,  which  he  showed  by  his  earnest 
advocacy  of  them  on  his  return  home.  He  was  absent 
from  his  congregation  on  this  voyage  nearly  six  months 
—  his  tempestuous  return  passage  alone  occupying 
three  months  lacking  five  days. 

In  those  times  of  high  political  excitement  between 
federalists  and  democrats,  Mr.  Allen  was  one  of  the  few 
New  England  divines  that  sympathised  with  the  latter. 

At  the  present  day,  the  patriotic  clergy  of  the 
Revolution  are  often  looked  upon  as  good,  zealous 
pen,  and  nothing  more — while  in  fact  they  were  the 


IjG  THOMAS     ALLEN. 

soundest  statesmen  of  the  time.  This  was  the  case 
with  Mr.  Allen,  and  the  jealous  eye  with  which  he 
watched  every  step  of  the  civil  government  during 
the  war,  showed  how  keenly  he  felt  the  danger  of 
illegal  authority  springing  up  in  the  midst  of  revolu- 
tion, whose  decisions  wrould  lead  to  after-trouble. 
Thus,  in  1779,  a  session  of  the  Superior  Court  was 
appointed  in  Great  Barrington.  He  immediately 
drew  up  an  able  remonstrance  against  it,  on  the 
ground  that  it  was  a  dangerous  precedent  to  consent 
to  the  operation  of  law  until  a  constitution,  or  form 
of  government,  or  bill  of  rights  had  been  adopted. 
This  paper  is  still  preserved  in  the  family,  and  shows 
a  clear  head  and  a  far-reaching  political  wisdom,  not 
commonly  found  in  turbulent  times. 

It  does  not  come  within  the  plan  of  this  work  to 
write  his  biography  as  a  clergyman  to  its  close.  He 
was  an  impressive  preacher,  and  on  occasions,  that 
called  forth  the  tenderer  feelings,  such  as  the  sacra- 
ment of  the  Lord's  Supper,  would  drown  his  audi- 
ence in  tears.  He  preached  forty-six  years,  faithful 
to  his  high  calling  as  he  was  to  his  country.  When 
prostrated  by  his  final  sickness,  he  approached  the 
grave  serene  and  tranquil.  No  cloud  darkened  its  por- 
tals, no  doubt  dimmed  the  clear  vision  of  his  faith. 
Resting  not  on  his  own  merits,  but  on  his  crucified 
Lord,  in  whom  he  trusted  without  wavering!  he  mur- 
mured in  sweet  peace,  ik' Come,  Lord  Jesus,  come 
quickly  \"  Just  before  his  death,  one  of  his  children 
urged  him  to  take  some  nourishment,  saying  that  it 
would  be  impossible  for  him  to  live  if  ho  did  not. 


HIS     DEATH.  157 

"  Live  !"   exclaimed  the  dying  patriot  and  saint,  "  / 
am  going  to  live  forever." 

Thus,  Feb.  11th,  1810,  in  the  sixty-eighth  year  of 
his  age,  passed  away  this  great  and  good  man.  Noble 
by  nature,  an  earnest  Christian,  a  faithful  minister  of 
the  Gospel,  a  brave  patriot — his  name  should  be  in- 
scribed high  on  the  monument  that  commemorates  his 
country's  independence. 


CHAPTER     XIV. 

JOHN  ROSSBURGH. 

An  Irishman  by  Birth.— IIis  Education.— Is  settled  at  tiie  "Forks  or  Tn* 
Delaware."— His  Patriotism. — Joins  a  Company  formed  in  his  own  Par- 
ish as  a  Soldier. — Hrs  painful  Parting  with  his  Wife. — Makes  his  Will. 
— Chaplain  of  a  Regiment. — Marches  against  the  Enemy. —  Is  take* 
Prisoner,  and  murdered  while  praying  for  his  Enemies. — The  mutilated 
Corpse  stealthily  buried. — His  Letters  to  ms  Wife  just  before  a  Skir- 
mish.—His  Character. 

It  was  hardly  possible,  in  a  war  in  which  clergy- 
men often  exposed  themselves  like  the  meanest  soldier, 
and  rendered  themselves  so  obnoxious  to  the  enemy 
by  the  leading  part  they  took  in  the  rebellion,  that 
some  should  not  have  fallen  on  the  battle-field,  or 
otherwise  suffered  a  violent  death  from  the  hands  of 
their  foes.  The  Revolution  would  have  been  less 
sacred,  if  their  blood  had  not  mingled  in  the  costly 
sacrifice  that  was  laid  on  the  altar  of  freedom. 

John  Rossburgh  was  one  of  these,  giving  his  life  to 
the  cause  to  which  he  had  already  given  his  heart. 
He  was  an  Irishman  by  birth,  though  he  came  to  this 
country  when  a  lad  of  eighteen  years  of  age.  The 
death  of  his  wife  and  infant  son  early  in  life  caused 
him  to  turn  his  thoughts  to  the  ministry.  He  had 
already  learned  a  trade,  but  at  once  abandoned  it,  and 
though  compelled  to  rely  almost  entirely  on  his  own 
resources,  prepared  himself  for  college,  and  graduated 
at  Princeton  in  17G1,     Jle  was  licensed  to  preach  in 


HIS     PATRIOTISM.  159 

1763,  and  soon  after  settled  at  the  "  Forks  of  the  Dela- 
ware/' in  New  Jersey.  At  the  outbreak  of  the  Kevo- 
lution  his  feelings  at  once  became  deeply  enlisted  in  the 
struggle,  and  in  his  prayers  and  sermons  he  showed 
with  what  absorbing  interest  he  watched  its  progress. 

The  fall  of  New  York  and  the  subsequent  disasters 
that  overtook  the  army  so  wrought  upon  his  patriotism 
that,  when  he  saw  that  dispirited  and  diminished  army 
fleeing  through  the  State  before  their  haughty  and 
insolent  foes,  he  could  remain  an  idle  spectator  no 
longer.  Calling  together  his  congregation,  he  besought 
them  as  patriots,  as  Christians,  to  fly  to  the  help  of 
Washington  and  his  despairing  troops.  They  re- 
sponded to  his  appeal,  and  organized  a  company  in 
which  he,  to  show  a  noble  example,  wras  the  first  to 
enroll  himself  as  a  private  soldier  :  and  pastor  and 
people  rallied  under  one  standard. 

The  evening  before  he  was  to  take  his  departure  for 
camp  was  a  solemn  one,  for  at  break  of  day  he  ex- 
pected to  leave  his  wife  and  children,  perhaps  never  to 
see  them  again  on  earth.  He  felt  all  the  perils  of  the 
step  he  had  taken,  but  he  had  no  misgivings.  It  was 
the  more  solemn  to  him  because  he  had  a  presentiment, 
that  his  parting  with  his  family  in  the  morning  was  to 
be  a  final  one.  So  after  they  had  retired  to  rest,  he 
communed  for  a  while  with  himself  and  his  maker — 
thought  over  the  dependent  position  in  which  his  death 
would  leave  those  he  had  loved  better  than  his  life,  and 
then  calmly  drew  up  his  will. 

The  following  extract  from  it  shows  that  it  was  no 
sudden  impulse  that  drove  him  to  the  field  of  battle, 


ICO  JOHN     ROSSBURGII. 

but  a  well  considered  purpose,  *ind  one  with  which  he  had 
gone  with  a  devout  heart  and  a  clear  conscience  to 
the  throne  of  God.  "  Having/'  he  writes,  "  received 
many  singular  blessings  from  Almighty  God  in  this 
land  of  my  pilgrimage  ;  more  especially  a  loving  wife 
and  five  promising  children,  I  do  leave  and  bequeathe 
them  all  to  the  protection,  mercy  and  grace  of  God 
from  whom  I  received  them.  Bein£  encouraged  thereto 
by  God's  gracious  direction  and  faithful  promise,  Jer- 
emiah, xlix.  11  :  '  Leave  thy  fatherless  children,  I  will 
preserve  them  alive,  and  let  thy  widows  trust  in  me/  " 

Those  whom  he  thus  committed  to  the  care  of  his 
heavenly  Father,  were  quietly  slumbering  near  him, 
and  tears  would  rise,  and  emotions  he  could  not  con- 
trol bear  him  to  the  earth,  as  he  thought  it  was  per- 
haps the  last  time  the  same  roof  should  cover  them — 
but  his  resolution  never  faltered.  He  trusted  serenely 
in  God  ;  for  not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  crossed  his 
mind,  that  it  was  His  cause  for  which  he  was  about  to 
offer  up  his  life. 

At  early  dawn  he  shouldered  his  musket,  and  bid- 
ding his  family  an  affectionate,  tender  farewell,  turned 
to  depart.  But  when  the  last  moment  came,  his  wife 
could  not  let  him  go.  Clinging  to  his  neck  with  a 
painful  tenacity,  she  declared  she  never  would  part 
with  him,  while  tears  and  sobs  choked  her  utter- 
ance. Finding  himself  unable  by  a  gentle  effort  to 
untwine  her  closely  locked  arms,  and  feeling  his  own 
fortitude  rapidly  giving  wTay  before  her  passionate 
grief,  he  was  compelled  almost  to  use  violence  to  dis- 
engage himself,  when  hurrying  out  of  the  house,  ho 


TAKEN     PRISONER.  1G1 

mounted  his  horse,  and  galloped  off  to  join  his  com- 
pany. The  drum  was  already  beating  for  parade,  and 
they  soon  took  up  the  line  of  march  for  Philadelphia. 
Having  arrived  there,  the  company  was  incorporated 
into  a  regiment  of  which  he  was  appointed  chaplain. 

The  troops  immediately  hurried  forward,  and  joined 
the  retreating  army.  Being  fresh  they  were  sent  to 
the  rear,  to  check  the  enemy,  and  hence  were  soon  en- 
gaged in  a  severe  skirmish  with  his  advance  guard. 
Mr.  Kossburgh  was  a  fine-looking,  portly  man,  and 
consequently  was  conspicuous  in  every  part  of  the  field, 
and  by  his  cool  courage  and  resolute  bearing  furnished 
a  noble  example  to  his  parishioners.  The  encounter 
took  place  near  the  banks  of  the  Trenton,  and  in  the 
melee  he  lost  his  horse.  Going  towards  the  river  in 
search  of  him,  he  suddenly  came  upon  a  company  of 
Hessians,  under  the  command  of  a  British  officer. 
Being  right  upon  them,  before  he  discovered  their  pres- 
ence, he  saw  at  once  that  escape  was  hopeless,  and 
surrendered  himself  as  prisoner,  requesting  them  at 
the  same  time,  for  the  sake  of  his  wife  and  children, 
to  spare  his  life.  An  insulting  epithet  was  the  only 
reply  deigned  him,  and  he  immediately  discovered  by 
their  movements  that  his  death  was  determined  upon. 
Knowing  that  entreaty  would  be  of  no  avail  with  the 
barbarous,  bloodthirsty  wretches,  he  turned  away,  and 
kneeling  down,  calmly  committed  his  wife  and  children, 
and  his  own  soul  about  to  take  its  flight  from  earth, 
into  the  hands  of  his  Maker.  He  then,  in  the  spirit 
of  his  divine  Master,  prayed  aloud,  that  he  would  for- 
give his   murderers,  and  not   lay  his   blood   to  their 


1G2  JOHN     ROSSBUROH, 

charge.  His  inhuman  captors  could  hardly  wait  till 
his  prayer  was  ended,  and  before  the  petition  for  their 
pardon  had  died  on  his  lips,  drove  a  bayonet  through 
his  body,  when  he  fell  forward  in  the  agonies  of  death. 
They  then  snatched  away  his  watch  and  part  of  his 
clothing,  and  mutilating  left  him  weltering  in  his 
blood.  The  mqp,  or  rather  fiend,  who  had  acted  the 
part  of  executioner,  immediately  after  entered  one  of 
the  hotels  of  Trenton,  and  told  the  woman  who  kept 
it,  that  he  had  killed  a  rebel  minister,  and  showed  the 
watch  as  proof  of  what  he  had  done,  but  added,  in  a 
frenzied  manner,  that  it  was  too  bad  he  should  have 
been  praying  for  them  while  they  were  killing  him. 
"Oh  I"  said  she,  "you  have  made  bad  work  for  his 
poor  family."  With  a  frightful  oath  he  retorted,  M  If 
you  say  another  word,  1  will  run  you  through/'  He 
then  seized  his  sword,  and  ran  off  like  one  possessed 
with  a  devil,  and  told  some  British  officers  what  he 
had  done,  who,  instead  of  condemning  the  dastardly 
deed,  commended  it. 

A  young  soldier,  named  Hayes,  one  of  his  congrega- 
tion, who  had  often  sat  under  his  preaching,  took  the 
mangled  corpse,  and  concealed  it,  and  the  next  day 
buried  it  in  an  out  of  the  way  spot  near  Trenton. 
Rev.  Mr.  Duffield,  another  chaplain,  hearing  of  it, 
went  and  had  the  body  disinterred,  and  buried  with 
proper  services  in  the  grave-yard  of  an  adjoining 
church.  The  widow,  accompanied  by  her  brother,  a 
member  of  the  Provincial  Congress,  came  on  to  see  the 
corpse,  but  his  murderers  had  so  disfigured  it,  that  it 
was  with  difficulty  she  could  recognize  it.     Two  short 


HIS     CHARACTER.  163 

weeks  before,  her  arms  had  entwined  that  noble  form, 
and  now  it  lay  a  mutilated  mass  before  her. 

She  received  three  letters  from  him,  after  he  bade 
her  farewell,  full  of  affection,  and  glowing  with  pa- 
triotism. The  following  extract  from  one  shows  the 
spirit  that  animated  him  :  "  My  dear,  I  am  still  yours. 
I  have  but  a  minute  to  tell  you  that  the  company  are 
all  well.  We  arc  going  over  to  attack  the  enemy. 
You  would  think  it  strange  to.  see  your  husband,  an 
old  man,  with  a  French  fusee  slung  at  his  back.  This 
may  be  the  last  you  shall  ever  receive  from  your  hus- 
band. I  have  committed  myself,  you,  and  the  dear 
pledges  of  our  mutual  love  to  God.  As  I  am  out  of 
doors,  I  can  write  no  more.  I  send  my  compliments 
to  you,  my  dear,  and  to  the  children.  Friends,  pray 
for  us.     I  am  your  loving  husband/' 

Let  the  scrupulous  Christian  of  to-day  condemn,  if 
he  can,  this  noble  divine  for  fighting  in  defence  of  his 
country.  lie  had  no  doubts  of  the  righteousness  of 
his  conduct,  when  passing  with  prayer  on  his  lips  into 
the  presence  of  his  God. 

Amiable,  kind,  and  distinguished  as  a  peace-maker, 
he  had  to  overcome  all  his  natural  tendencies  to  war, 
to  take  up  arms  ;  but  having  settled  it  to  be  his  duty, 
he  had  no  after-misgivings. 

In  the  turbulent  scenes  that  followed  his  death,  his 
grave  was  left  unmarked,  and  no  one,  at  this  day,  can 
tell  where  the  sainted  patriot  sleeps. 


CHAPTER     XV. 

ABNER   BENEDICT. 

His  Birtii  and  Education.— Settled  at  Middletown. — Becomes  Chaplain 
in  the  Army  at  New  York. — Desckiption  of  a  terrific  Thunder-storm. — 
The  Battle  of  Long  Island.— His  Feelings.— The  Last  to  leave  the 
Shore  in  the  Retreat.— -Inventions  in  Slum  akin  e  Navigation.— Manu- 
factures Saltpetre  for  Powder. — Elected  Professor  in  Yale  College. — 
His  Character  and  Death. 

Abner  Benedict  was  born  at  North  Salem,  N.  Y., 
Nov.  9th,  1740.  A  classmate  of  Timothy  D wight,  he 
graduated  at  Yale  College,  in  1769,  and  studied  theo- 
logy with  the  celebrated  Dr.  Bellamy,  of  Bethlehem, 
Conn.  He  married  Lois  Nbrthrup,  of  New  Milford, 
Conn.,  in  1771,  and  the  next  year  was  ordained  and 
settled  in  Middlefield,  Middletown,  of  the  same  state. 
He  retained  his  connection  with  this  church  fourteen 
years,  though,  like  his  classmate  D wight,  he  was  ab- 
sent a  part  of  the  time  as  volunteer  chaplain  in  the 
army.  An  ardent  patriot,  his  sympathies  drew  him 
away  to  the  field  where  his  countrymen  were  battling 
for  their  rights,  but  when  the  tide  of  war  rolled  south- 
ward, he  returned  to  his  parish* 

lie  was  with  the  army  in  New  York,  and  being 
deeply  interested  in  the  efforts  put  forth  to  destroy  the 
enemy's  ships  by  torpedos,  made  some  inventions  in 
submarine  navigation,  which  were  looked  upon  with 
great  favor  by  those  to  whom  they  were  submitted. 


TERRIFIC     THUNDER-STORM.  1G5 

He  often  spoke  of  the  excitement  which  the  news  of 
the  landing  of  the  British  on  Long  Island  created  in 
the  army,  and  of  its  effect  on  the  inhabitants,  who  saw 
that  the  final  struggle  for  New  York  was  at  hand. 
The  day,  around  which  clustered  such  momentous 
destinies,  closed  with  what  seemed  an  awful  omen  of 
good  or  ill  to  the  American  cause.  Mr.  Benedict 
was  in  the  ranks  on  Brooklyn  Heights  at  the  time, 
from  the  ramparts  of  which  he  could  look  out  on  the 
rolling  country,  dotted  with  troops,  hurrying  in  every 
direction.  The  most  intense  excitement  prevailed 
throughout  the  city,  and  reinforcements  had  been 
pushed  rapidly  forward  all  day  to  meet  the  coming 
shock. 

But  crowded  as  the  day  had  been  with  anxious  fears 
and  gloomy  forebodings,  the  coming  on  of  evening 
brought  new  terrors.  In  the  west  slowly  rose  a  thun- 
der-cloud, the  glittering,  coruscated  edges  of  which 
seemed  solid  as  marble,  so  that  when  the  sun  passed 
behind  it,  it  was  like  a  total  eclipse,  and  sudden  dark- 
ness fell  on  sea  and  land. 

Mr.  Benedict's  description  of  the  appearance  and 
passage  of  this  thunder-cloud  was  appalling.  *  As  it 
continued  to  rise  higher  and  higher,  he  observed  that 
it  was  surcharged  with  electricity,  for  the  lightning  was 
constantly  searching  it  from  limit  to  limit,  and  the  deep 
reverberations  that  rolled  along  the  heavens  without 

*  Mr.  Benedict  was  my  grandfather,  and  I  can  remember,  when  a 
mere  child,  the  effect  this  description  had  on  me  ;  but,  as  I  can  recall 
only  disconnected  portions  of  it,  I  have  chosen  to  put  the  whole  ac 
count  in  my  own  language. — Ed. 


166  ABNER     BENEDICT. 

intermission,  sounded  more  like  successive  billows 
bursting  on  the  shore;  than  the  irregular  discharges  of 
a  thunder-cloud. 

At  length,  at  seven  o'clock,  it  began  to  rain.  All 
before  had  been  the  skirmishing  that  precedes  the  battle, 
but  now  like  some  huge  monster  that  cloud  suddenly- 
gaped  and  shot  forth  flame.  Then  followed  a  crash 
louder  than  a  thousand  cannon  discharged  at  once.  It 
was  appalling.  The  soldiers  involuntarily  cowered 
before  it.  In  a  few  moments  the  entire  heavens  be- 
came black  as  ink,  and  from  horizon  to  horizon  the 
whole  empyrean  was  ablaze  with  lightning,  while  the 
thunder  that  followed  did  not  come  in  successive  peals, 
but  in  one  long  continuous  crash,  as  if  the  very  frame- 
work of  the  skies  was  falling  to  pieces,  accompanied* 
with  a  confused  sound,  as  though  the  fragments  were 
tumbling  into  a  profound  abyss.  The  lightning  fell  in 
masses  and  sheets  of  fire  to  the  earth,  and  seemed  to 
be  striking  incessantly  and  on  every  side.  There  was 
an  apparent  recklessness  and  wildness  about  the  un- 
loosed strength  of  the  elements  that  was  absolutely 
terrifying.  The  power  that  was  abroad  seemed  suffi- 
cient to  crush  the  earth  into  a  thousand  fragments. 
The  fort  was  silent  as  the  grave,  for  the  strongest 
heart  bent  before  this  exhibition  of  God's  terrible  ma- 
jesty. It  did  not  pass  away  like  an  ordinary  shower, 
for  the  cloud  appeared  to  stand  still,  and  swing  round 
and  round  like  a  horizontal  wheel  over  the  devoted 
city.  It  clung  to  it  with  a  tenacity  that  was  frightful. 
For  three  hours,  or  from  seven  to  ten,  the  deafening 
uproar    continued    without    cessation    or    abatement. 


EFFECTS     OF    THE     STORM.  167 

When  it  finally  took  its  sullen  tumultuous  departure, 
every  heart  felt  relieved. 

The  morning  dawned  mild  and  peaceful,  as  if  no- 
thing unusual  had  happened,  but  soon  reports  began 
to  come  in  of  the  devastation  and  death  the  storm  had 
spread  around.  There  was  no  end  of  the  accounts  of 
almost  miraculous  escapes  of  the  inmates  of  houses 
that  were  struck.  In  others  the  inhabitants  were  more 
or  less  injured.  A  soldier,  passing  through  one  of  the 
streets,  without  receiving  apparently  any  external 
injury,  was  struck  deaf,  dumb  and  blind.  A  captain 
and  two  lieutenants  belonging  to  McDougal's  regi- 
ment, were  killed  by  one  thunderbolt ;  the  points  of 
their  swords  melted  off,  and  the  coin  melted  in  their 
pockets.  Their  bodies  appeared  as  if  they  had  been 
roasted,  so  black  and  crisped  was  the  skin.  Ten  men 
encamped  outside  of  the  fort  near  the  river,  and  occu- 
pying one  tent,  were  killed  by  a  single  flash.  When 
the  tent,  that  had  fallen  upon  them,  was  lifted,  they 
lay  scattered  around  on  the  ground,  presenting  a  most 
melancholy  appearance.  They  belonged  to  one  of  the 
Connecticut  regiments,  and  were  buried  in  one  grave. 
The  service  performed  by  the  chaplain  was  very  solemn 
and  impressive.  Familiar  as  we  become  with  death  in 
the  midst  of  war,  it  somehow  affects  us  very  differently 
when  sent,  apparently,  direct  from  the  hand  of  God. 
In  battle  we  hear  the  roar  of  the  guns,  and  after  the 
smoke  and  tumult  have  passed  away,  we  expect  to  see 
bleeding  and  mangled  forms  scattered  around.  But 
there  seems  a  hidden  meaning,  some  secret  purpose, 


V 


168  ABNER     BENEDICT. 

when  the  bolt  is  launched  by  an  invisible  arm,  and 
from  the  mysterious  depths  of  space. 

From  every  side  came  in  reports  of  soldiers  more  or 
less  injured,  and  the  excitement  could  hardly  have 
been  greater,  and  the  returns  caused  more  surprise,  if 
there  had  been  a  night-attack  on  the  camp. 

Mr.  Benedict  said  he  could  not  account  for  the  cloud 
remaining  so  long  stationary,  unless  the  vast  amount  of 
arms  collected  in  and  about  the  city  held  it  by  attraction, 
and  drew  from  it  such  a  fearful  amount  of  electricity.0 

At  regimental  prayers,  next  morning,  he  felt  pecu- 
liarly solemn.  The  great  battle  so  near  at  hand,  to  be 
perhaps  a  decisive  one  for  his  country,  filled  him  with 
sad  forebodings. 

Scarcely  were  the  religious  services  finished,  when 
strains  of  martial  music  wrere  heard  near  the  ferry,  and 
not  long  after  column  after  column  came  winding  up 
the  heights  towards  the  fort.  They  were  six  battalions 
sent  over  by  Washington,  accompanied  by  General 
Putnam,  who  was  to  take  chief  command.  The  Gen- 
eral was  received  with  loud  cheers,  and  his  presence 
inspired  universal  confidence. 

In  a  short  time  the  whole  country,  to  the  front  and 
right,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  was  covered  with 
the  smoke  of  battle,  and  shook  to  the  thunder  of  can- 
non. When  the  tumult  ceased,  the  fields  alive  with 
fugitives  from  the  American  army,  told  how  disastrous 
the  day  had  been.  Mr.  Benedict's  heart  was  filled 
with  the  most   poignant  sorrow,  for  not  only  had  the 

*  This  explanation  was  i:i  accordance  with  the  theory  of  thunder- 
storms at  that  time. — Elk 


LAST  TO  LEAVE  THE  SHORE.      169 

Americans  lost  the  battle,  but  the  whole  army  was 
now  threatened  with  total  destruction.  The  silence 
of  the  evening  that  followed  was  more  oppressive  than 
the  uproar  and  carnage  of  the  day,  for  "what  noio 
can  save  the  army  t"  trembled  on  every  lip.  No  one 
believed  the  fort  could  be  defended,  as  all  the  ap- 
proaches to  it  were  in  the  enemy's  power ;  while  the 
first  movement  to  retreat  across  to  the  city  would 
bring  the  ships  of  war  lying  just  below  into  their 
midst. 

In  this  fearful  dilemma  fervent  prayers  went  up  to 
Him  who  alone  could  deliver.  As  if  in  answer  to 
those  prayers,  when  night  deepened,  a  dense  fog  came 
rolling  in,  and  settled  on  land  and  water.  At  the 
same  time,  with  the  turn  of  the  tide,  a  strong  east 
wind  arose,  that  sent  the  water  with  the  force  of  a 
torrent  into  the  bay,  effectually  preventing  for  the 
time  the  ships,  if  they  had  desired  it,  from  entering 
the  river.  Under  cover  of  this  fog  and  the  night, 
Washington  silently  withdrew  his  entire  army  across 
to  New  York.  Mr.  Benedict,  who  watched  the  prog- 
ress of  this  movement  with  an  anxiety  that  mocked 
expression,  remained  behind,  while  boat  load  after 
boat  load  drifted  away  in  the  darkness.  When  the 
army  was  all  over,  he  then  consented  to  go  also,  and 
stepping  into  a  boat,  was  one  of  the  last  who  left  that 
disastrous  shore.  He  retreated  with  the  army  to 
Harlaem  Heights,  and  was  present  in  the  skirmishes 
that  followed,  and  witnessed  the  battle  of  White 
Plains.  In  the  disruption  of  the  army  that  succeeded 
the  fall  of  Fort  Washington,  he  returned  to  his  parish. 

8 


170  ABN'ER     BENEDICT. 

He  continued  an  ardent  patriot  throughout  the  war, 
rendering  his  country  every  service  within  his  power. 
When  it  was  in  distress,  on  account  of  the  scarcity  of 
powder,  he  made  various  experiments  in  the  manufac- 
ture of  saltpetre  from  materials  never  before  used,  in 
which  he  was  entirely  successful.  He  hailed  with  un- 
bounded delight  the  return  of  peace,  and  a  daughter 
being  born  to  him  on  the  day  of  its  declaration,  he 
named  her  u  Irene/'  the  Greek  word  for  peace. 

He  dissolved  his  connection  with  the  parish  in 
Middletown  in  1785,  and  was  afterwards  settled  over 
various  parishes  in  succession.  The  last  field  of  his 
labors  was  Eoxbury,  New  Jersey,  where  he  died  in 
1818,  aged  seventy-eight  years.  At  one  time  he  wTas 
elected  professor  in  Yale  College,  but  declined  to  ac- 
cept the  appointment. 

A  man  of  thorough  education,  of  a  deeply  philo- 
sophical mind,  and  a  distinguished  mathematician,  he 
left  behind  him  several  pamphlets  on  various  subjects, 
and  among  others  one  on  tides  and  winds,  and  another 
on  submarine  navigation  and  attack.  Of  noble  sym- 
pathies, warm  and  generous  affections,  and  ardent  piety, 
he  was  known  and  loved  far  and  wide,  and  his  memory 
is  still  fondly  cherished  in  the  places  where  he  labored. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

WILLIAM   WHITE,  D.  D. 

His  Birth  and  early  Studies.— Goes  to  England. — Friend  or  Goldsmith 
and  Johnson.— Settled  in  Philadelphia. — Takes  the  Oath  of  Allegiance. 
— Noble  Determination. — Elected    Chaplain  of   Congress. — His  Conduct 

AFTER   THE    REVOLUTION. — Is   MADE    BlSHOP.— HlS    CHARACTER    AND    DEATH. 

Among  the  few  Episcopal  clergymen,  who  took  part 
with  the  Colonists  in  their  struggle  for  liberty.  Bishop 
White  stands  preeminent.  He  was  born  in  Philadel- 
phia, April  4th,  1748.  He  gave  evidences  of  piety  in 
early  life,  and  when  a  mere  child  showed  the  strong 
bent  of  his  mind  towards  the  ministry.  Having  grad- 
uated at  the  age  of  sixteen  he  early  commenced  his 
preparations  for  holy  orders  and  when  he  was  twenty- 
two  sailed  for  England  to  obtain  ordination. 

While  in  London,  he  was  for  a  while  a  neighbor  of 
Goldsmith,  with  whom  he  became  acquainted.  He 
was  also  intimate  with  Dr.  Johnson,  of  whom  he  spoke 
warmly,  and  related  the  following  as  the  only  instance 
in  which  the  learned  lexicographer  showed  that  harsh- 
ness of  manner,  of  which  so  many  complained.  They 
were  conversing  on  the  Stamp  Act,  which  had  caused 
such  dissatisfaction  in  the  Colonies,  when  the  doctor 
remarked,  "Had  I  been  prime  minister,  I  would  have 
sent  a  ship-of-war,  and  leveled  one  of  your  principal 
cities  to  the  ground/' 

Having  been  ordained  as  deaccn  and  priest,  he  re- 


172  W  I  L  L  I  A  M     WHITE,    D.  D. 

turned  to  Philadelphia  in  1772,  and  was  chosen  assist- 
ant minister  of  Christ  and  St.  Peter's  churches. 

Though  he  took  no  active  part  in  the  opening  scenes 
of  the  Revolution,  his  sympathies  were  all  with  the 
Colonies.  He  continued,  however,  to  pray  for  the 
king  until  the  Declaration  of  Independence  was  given 
to  the  world,  and  then  he  came  forward  and  took  the 
oath  of  allegiance.  While  it  was  being  administered 
to  him,  an  acquaintance,  standing  near,  made  a  signi- 
ficant gesture  by  putting  his  hands  to  his  throat.  After 
the  ceremony  was  finished  Mr.  "White  remarked  to 
him,  u  I  perceived  by  your  gesture,  that  you  thought  I 
was  exposing  myself  to  great  danger  by  the  step  I  have 
taken.  But  I  have  not  taken  it  without  full  delibera- 
tion. I  know  my  danger,  and  that  it  is  the  greater  on 
account  of  being  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land. But  I  trust  in  Providence.  The  cause  is  a  just 
one,  and  I  trust  will  be  protected/'  Noble  words, 
that  do  him  far  more  honor  than  even  the  exalted  po- 
sition he  afterwards  attained. 

In  September,  1777,  he  was  elected  chaplain  of  Con- 
gress. The  circumstances  attending  the  reception  of 
this  appointment,  and  its  acceptance,  he  often  related 
afterwards  to  his  friends.  He  said  that  "  he  had  re- 
moved with  his  family  to  Maryland,  and  being  on  a 
journey,  stopped  at  a  small  village  between  Harford 
County  and  Philadelphia,  at  which  he  was  met  by  a 
courier  from  Yorktown,  informing  him  of  his  being 
appointed  by  Congress  as  their  chaplain,  and  request- 
ing his  immediate  attendance  ;  that  he  thought  of  it 
a  short  time  ;    it  was  in  one  of  the  gloomiest  periods 


IS     MADE     BISHOP.  173 

of  the  American  affairs,  when  General  Burgoyne  was 
marching  without  having  yet  received  a  serious  check, 
so  far  as  was  then  known,  through  the  northern  parts 
of  New  York  ;  and,  after  a  short  consideration,  in- 
stead of  proceeding  on  his  journey,  he  turned  his 
horse's  head,  and  traveled  immediately  to  Yorktown, 
and  entered  on  the  duties  of  his  appointment/' 

In  this  brief  account  it  leaks  out  accidentally  that 
the  main  motive,  which  induced  his  acceptance,  wras 
the  gloomy  prospect  of  the  American  cause.  He  felt 
that  that  was  the  time,  if  ever,  when  the  minister  of 
God  should  give  his  prayers  and  efforts  to  sustain  the 
sinking  courage  of  those  who  stood  at  the  head  of 
power.  It  wras  because  the  post  was  fraught  with  so 
much  danger,  and  was  connected  with  such  high  re- 
sponsibilities, that  he  accepted  it.  His  faith  never 
wavered,  for  it  passed  beyond  the  strong  battalions  to 
the  Source  of  all  power. 

When  the  British  evacuated  Philadelphia,  every 
clergyman  of  the  Episcopal  denomination  left  the 
state  but  himself.  Solitary  and  alone,  he  remained  at 
his  post,  and,  like  Abdiel,  faithful  to  the  last,  cast  his 
lot  in  with  his  suffering  country. 

As  soon  as  peace  was  restored,  he  devoted  himself 
to  the  reorganization  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  the 
Btate,  and  at  the  first  regular  convention  was  elected 
bishop. 

Of  his  after-labors  in  the  church,  his  transcendent 
virtues,  his  elevated  character,  and  his  influence,  I 
6hall  say  nothing.  His  memory  is  embalmed  in  the 
hearts  of  the  good  of  all  denominations.     When  tho 


174  WILLIAM     WHITE,    D.  D. 

yellow  fever  ravaged  Philadelphia,  he  remained  at  his 
post,  exhibiting  to  the  last  that  noble  devotion  to 
duty,  regardless  of  consequences,  which  characterised 
him  as  the  friend  of  Washington  and  of  his  country. 

For  the  last  forty  years  of  his  life,  he  was  Senior, 
and  consequently  Presiding,  Bishop  of  the  United 
States.  He  died  on  the  morning  of  the  17th  of  July, 
1836,  at  the  advanced  age  of  eighty-eight. 


CHAPTER     XVII. 

TIMOTHY   DWIGHT. 

Patriotism  or  our  Colleges. — Dwigiit's  Birth. — His  early  Life. — Tutor  op 
Yale  College. — Is  licensed  to  preach. — His  Patriotism. — Becomes  Chap- 
lain.—Advocates  complete  Independence. — His  Description  of  the  deso- 
late Appearance  of  Westchester  County. — His  Sermons  to  the  Soldiers. 
— Eloquent  Sermon  after  the  Victory  at  Saratoga. — Anecdote  of  Put- 
nam.— Composes  the  Ode  to  Columbia. — Dedicates  a  Poem  to  Washing- 
ton.— Shares  the  Sufferings  of  the  Soldiers  at  West  Point  in  the  Win- 
ter of  177S. —  His  Faith. —  His  Description  of  Scene  from  Sugar  Loaf 
Mountain. —  Also  of  the  Dead  Unburied  at  Fort  Montgomery. —  Death 
of  ins  Father. —  Leaves  the  Army. —  Settles  at  Northampton. —  Goes  to 
the  Legislature. — Publishes  several  Poems. — Elected  President  of  Yale 
College.— A  Federalist  in  1S12. — His  Eminence  as  a  Theologian. — His 
Death. 

The  lover  of  education  will  always  point  with 
pleasure  and  pride  to  the  bold  and  patriotic  stand 
taken  by  our  colleges  in  the  Kevolution.  Warmly 
espousing  the  cause  of  the  Colonies,  they  not  only 
shared  the  common  suffering,  but  yielded  their  full 
proportion  of  active  patriots  to  the  struggle.  Presi- 
dents and  students  alike,  made  common  cause  with  the 
people,  and  the  eloquent  voice  pleaded,  and  the  strong 
arm  struck  for  liberty.  Hence  our  institutions  of 
learning  were  peculiarly  obnoxious  to  the  British,  who 
regarded  them  only  as  so  many  hot  beds  in  which 
young  rebels  were  reared. 

Timothy  D wight  was  born  in  Northampton,  May 
14th,  1752,  and  hence  was  only   twenty-three  when 


176  TIMOTHY     DWIGHT. 

the  war  broke  out.  But  though  young  in  years,  he 
possessed  a  remarkably  mature  intellect.  When  a 
mere  child  he  learned  his  alphabet  in  a  single  lesson. 
He  could  read  the  Bible  at  four  years  of  age,  and  at 
six  commenced  the  study  of  Latin  by  himself.  En- 
tering Yale  College  at  the  early  age  of  thirteen,  he 
was  thrown  into  all  the  temptations  of  a  college  life, 
and  for  a  time  suffered  from  their  influence.  The  two 
first  years  were  very  much  wasted,  and  he  spent  much 
time  in  gambling,  though  not  for  money.  But  the 
faithful,  kind  remonstrances  of  his  friend  and  tutor, 
Stephen  Mix  Mitchell,  who  saw  with  pain  the  grow- 
ing waywardness  of  his  gifted  pupil,  brought  him  to 
serious  reflection,  and  he  immediately  shook  off  his 
habits  of  indolence  and  folly,  and  commenced  a  stud- 
ious, earnest  life.  Fourteen  hours  out  of  the  twenty- 
four  were  devoted  to  his  books.  This  close  application 
brought  on  weakness  of  the  eyes,  which  was  increased 
afterwards  by  using  them  too  soon  after  an  attack  of 
small  pox,  and  from  which  he  suffered  great  depriva- 
tion to  the  end  of  his  life.  He  was  only  seventeen 
when  he  graduated.  He  then  became  engaged  as  a 
teacher  in  New  Haven,  and  at  the  same  time  continued 
his  studies.  At  nineteen  he  was  chosen  tutor  in  the 
college.  During  this  year  his  attention  was  seriously 
turned  to  the  subject  of  religion,  and  he  soon  made  a 
public  profession  of  his  faith,  and  was  admitted  to  the 
communion  of  the  church  in  the  College.  His  mind 
at  first  had  been  inclined  to  the  profession  of  the  law, 
and  his  studies  were  pursued  to  that  end.  lie  however 
changed  his  plans,  and  without  a  lengthy  preparation 


BECOMES     C  II  A  T  L  A  I  X  .  177 

for  the  daties  of  the  profession,  offered  himself  as  a 
candidate  for  the  ministry,  and  was  licensed  in  1777. 

He  had  not  however  been  an  indifferent  observer  of 
the  struggle  going  on  between  the  Colonies  and  the 
mother  country,  but  warmly  espoused  the  cause  of  the 
former.  Ardent  and  imaginative,  hating  wrong,  and 
loving  liberty,  he  threw  himself  heart  and  soul  into 
the  contest.  Though  chained  to  his  duties  in  college, 
his  eloquent  tongue  was  never  weary  in  defending  his 
country,  and  in  kindling  the  patriotism  of  the  students. 
Hence,  when  in  May,  1777,  in  consequence  of  the  con- 
vulsed state  of  the  country,  and  the  danger  that 
threatened  our  entire  sea  coast,  the  college  was  dis- 
banded, he  immediately  offered  his  services  as  chaplain 
to  the  army.  Had  his  engagements  been  thus  sum- 
marily dissolved  previous  to  his  entering  the  ministry, 
it  is  impossible  to  say  what  his  career  would  have  been. 
Very  probably  the  same  ardent  patriotism  which  made 
him  volunteer  as  chaplain  would  have  impelled  him  to 
join  the  rebel  army  as  a  soldier  ;  and  he  who  afterwards 
rose  to  such  eminence  in  theology,  might  have  formed 
one  of  that  brilliant  military  group  that  cluster  around 
the  name  and  memory  of  Washington — the  sharers  of 
his  greatness  and  his  immortality.  As  he  was  situated, 
however,  he  felt  that  he  could  not  take  up  arms,  and 
so  he  did  the  most  patriotic  thing  in  his  power — en- 
rolled himself  professionally  in  the  American  army. 

This  course  might  be  expected  from  the  views  and 
feelings  which  he  entertained.  What  these  were,  and 
had  been  for  a  long  time,  he  has  given  us  in  his  own 
words.     He  says  :  "  I  urged  in  conversation  with  sev- 

8* 


178  T  I  M  0  T  n  Y     DWIGHT. 

cral  gentlemen  of  great  respectability,  firm  Whigs,  and 
my  intimate  friends,  the  importance,  and  even  the  ne- 
cessity, of  a  declaration  of  independence  on  the  part 
of  the  Colonies,  and  alleged  for  this  measure  the  very 
same  arguments  which  afterwards  were  generally  con- 
sidered as  decisive,  but  found  them  disposed  to  give 
me  and  my  arguments  a  hostile  and  contemptuous,  in- 
stead of  a  cordial  reception.  Yet  at  this  time  all  the 
resentment  and  enthusiasm,  awakened  by  the  odious 
measures  of  Parliament,  by  the  peculiarly  obnoxious 
conduct  of  the  British  agents  in  this  country,  and  by 
the  recent  battles  of  Lexington  and  Breed's  Hill,  were 
at  the  highest  pitch.  These  gentlemen  may  be  consid- 
ered as  representatives  of  the  great  body  of  thinking 
men  in  this  country.  A  few,  perhaps,  may  be  excepted, 
but  none  of  these  durst  at  that  time  openly  declare 
their  opinions  to  the  public.  For  myself,  I  regarded 
the  die  as  cast,  and  the  hope  of  reconciliation  as  van- 
ished, and  believed  that  the  Colonists  would  never 
be  able  to  defend  themselves,  unless  they  renounced 
their  dependence  on  Great  Britain/' 

The  time  selected  by  him  for  joining  the  army,  Sep- 
tember 1777,  shows  his  fearless  spirit  and  lofty  patriot- 
ism. The  summer  had  been  marked  by  disasters. 
The  battles  of  Brandywine  and  Germantown  had  been 
followed  by  the  fall  of  Philadelphia,  while  the  northern 
horizon  was  dark  as  night  with  the  gathering  storm. 
Burgoyne  was  on  his  victorious  march,  and  in  the  be- 
ginning of  this  month  the  heads  of  his  menacing  col- 
umns were  almost  in  striking  distance  of  Albany. 
Forts  Schuyler,  Edward,  Ticonderoga,  those  keys  of 


DESOLATE     APPEARANCE.  179 

the  north,  had  already  fallen,  and  but  one  more  suc- 
cessful blow  seemed  necessary  to  finish  the  struggle. 
A  profound  solemnity  rested  on  the  nation,  for  all 
knew  that,  if  Clinton  from  the  south  formed  a  junction 
with  Burgoyne,  a  cordon  of  posts  would  be  established 
from  Canada  to  New  York,  and  the  Eastern  and 
Middle  Colonies  be  hopelessly  separated.  All  eyes 
were  turned  on  that  veteran  host  with  its  splendid 
train  of  artillery,  as,  treading  down  every  thing  in  its 
passage,  it  emerged  from  the  northern  wilderness. 
Washington  rapidly  concentrated  the  eastern  troops 
around  the  Highlands,  while  the  farmers  from  Western 
Massachusetts  and  Vermont  left  *their  harvest  fields 
unreaped,  and  descended  to  the  greater  harvest  of  men 
at  Bennington  and  Saratoga. 

While  events  were  thus  drawing  to  a  crisis,  Dwight 
joined  the  army.  Parson's  brigade,  to  which  he  was 
attached,  was  soon  ordered  to  the  Hudson,  and  placed 
under  General  Putnam.  At  this  time,  rumors  of  pro- 
jected expeditions  by  Clinton  from  New  York,  and 
counter  movements  on  the  part  of  Putnam,  and  va- 
rious plans  for  annoying  the  enemy,  and  breaking  up 
his  outlying  posts,  kept  the  camp  in  a  state  of  constant 
excitement.  Between  his  duties  as  chaplain,  Dwight 
had  much  leisure  time,  a  part  of  which  he  spent  in 
riding  over  the  deserted  and  silent  country.  The 
British  lines  were  at  Kingsbridge,  extending  across  to 
the  East  Biver.  The  Americans  were  in  the  region  of 
Peekskill,  touching  Long  Island  Sound  at  Byram  river. 
The  people  between  were  exposed  to  the  depredations 
of  both,  and  Dwight,  as  he  traveled  along  the  deserted 


ISO  TIMOTHY     D  W  IGHT. 

roads  that  intersected  this  dangerous  interval,  was 
struck  with  the  somber  and  suspicious  character  of  the 
inhabitants.  Constantly  exposed  to  marauding  par- 
ties from  both  armies,  and  plundered  without  mercy 
at  the  slightest  suspicion  of  being  Tories,  by  the 
Americans,  or  of  being  patriots,  by  the  British,  they 
lived  in  constant  trepidation.  Dwight  said  :  "  To 
every  question  they  gave  such  an  answer  as  .would 
please  the  inquirer,  or,  if  they  despaired  of  pleasing, 
such  an  one  as  would  not  provoke  him."  His  heart 
was  pained  at  the  stone-like  apathy  into  which  men 
and  women  had  fallen — all  animation  and  feeling  had 
left  their  countenances,  and  a  fixed,  stolid  expression 
showed  to  what  a  depth  of  despair  they  had  been 
forced  by  the  evils  of  war.  The  houses,  he  said,  were 
scenes  of  desolation,  and  the  neglected  fields  were 
"  covered  with  rank  growth  of  weeds  and  wild  grass," 
while  the  great  road  leading  from  Boston  to  New 
York,  on  which  the  eye  usually  met  a  constant  suc- 
cession of  horses  and  carriages,  presented  a  melancholy, 
deserted  aspect.  "Not  a  single  solitary  traveler,"  he 
writes,  "  was  visible  from  week  to  week,  or  from  month 
to  month.  The  world  was  motionless  and  silent,  ex- 
cept when  one  of  those  unhappy  people  ventured  upon 
a  rare  and  lonely  excursion  to  the  house  of  a  neighbor 
no  less  unhappy,  or  a- scouting  party  traversing  the 
country  in  quest  of  enemies  alarmed  the  inhabitants 
with  the  expectations  of  new  injuries  and  Bufferioga 
The  very  tracks  of  the  carriages  were  grown  over  and 
obliterated,  and  where  they  were  discernible  resembled 


SERMONS     TO     THE     SOLDIERS.  181 

the  feint  impressions  of  chariot  wheels  said  to  be  left 
on  the  pavements  of  Herculaneum." 

But  notwithstanding  these  scenes  of  gloom,  so  op- 
pressive and  disheartening  to  the  beholder,  and  the 
disastrous  news  that  almost  every  wrind  brought  from 
the  commander-in-chief,  the  faith  of  the  young  chap- 
lain, in  the  ultimate  triumph  of  his  country,  never 
shook,  and  his  eloquent  voice  never  faltered  in  uttering 
words  of  encouragement  and  hope,  when  preaching 
or  praying  to  and  with  the  army.  He  commonly 
spoke  extempore,  and  his  sermons  were  always  listened 
to  with  profound  attention.  His  form  wras  finely  pro- 
portioned, stately  and  majestic,  and  his  eye  black  and 
piercing,  while  his  voice,  rich,  full  and  melodious,  fell 
like  the  softened  strains  of  a  bugle  on  the  ear.  When 
he  gave  wings  to  his  brilliant  imagination,  and  passed 
beyond  the  gloom  and  darkness  of  the  present,  and 
painted  the  glories  of  the  future — the  country  reposing 
in  peace  and  independence,  the  asylum  of  the  op- 
pressed, and  the  hope  of  mankind — he  soared  into  the 
highest  regions  of  oratory.  He  became  a  great  favo- 
rite in  the  army,  and  especially  with  General  Putnam. 
At  this  time,  although  the  Highlands  swarmed  with 
troops,  and  every  effort  was  made  to  prevent  Sir  Henry 
Clinton  from  advancing  up  the  river,  and  all  felt  the 
vital  importance  of  maintaining  this  formidable  pass, 
yet  the  eye  of  the  nation  wras  fixed  on  Saratoga.  The 
first  battle  of  Bemis'  Heights  had  taken  place,  and 
both  armies  were  preparing  for  a  second  and  final 
struggle. 

At  length,  on  the  7th  of  October,  it  came,  and  not- 


182  TIMOTHY     D  WIGHT. 

withstanding  the  pusillanimity  of  Gates,  was  won  by 
the  fiery  valor  and  desperate  daring  of  Arnold.  It  is 
impossible,  at  this  day,  to  imagine  the  effect  of  this 
victory  on  the  nation.  The  terrible  load  of  anxiety 
was  lifted  from  its  heart,  and  one  long,  triumphant 
shout  rolled  over  the  land. 

The  effect  on  Putnam's  army  was  electrical.  Forts 
Clinton  and  Montgomery  had  just  fallen,  and  the 
British  fleet,  breaking  through  the  boom  above  West 
Point,  had  ascended  to  Kingston,  and  burned  it  to 
the  ground.  The  next  breeze  from  the  north  might 
bring  the  disastrous  intelligence  of  the  overthrow  of 
Gates,  and  the  junction  of  the  British  forces.  What 
lay  beyond  this  catastrophe,  no  prophet  could  tell, 
and  each  one  held  his  breath  in  dread.  While  the 
army  at  Peekskill  was  in  this  state  of  intense  ex- 
citement, catching  eagerly  at  every  rumor  that  the 
tide  of  the  Hudson  floated  southward,  there  sud- 
denly burst  along  the  bosom  of  the  lordly  river  the 
triumphant  shout  of  victory.  Glad  tears  rained  from 
patriotic  eyes, — many  hearts  were  too  full  of  thanks- 
giving for  utterance,  from  others  shouts  and  huzzas 
arose  in  deafening  clamor,  while  the  granite  gate- 
way of  the  Highlands  shook  to  tin  thunder  of  jubilant 
cannon. 

The  news  of  the  surrender  reached  camp  on  Satur- 
day. Next  day  D wight  preached  at  head-quarters. 
Putnam  and  his  principal  officers  were  present,  and 
never  before  did  the  young  chaplain  seem  so  inspired. 
1 1  is  patriotic  heart,  like  that  of  the  meanest  soldier, 
had  been  thrown  into  ecstacy  at   the  glorious  tidings, 


ELOQUENT     SERMON.  183 

and  it  was  now  too  full  and  too  eager  for  utterance,  to 
require  any  preparation.  Hising  before  his  attentive, 
brilliant  auditory,  he  took  for  his  text,  Joel,  ii.  20  : 
u  I  will  remove  far  off  from  you  the  northern  army." 
The  effect  of  its  enunciation  was  astonishing,  and 
seemed  like  a  voice  from  heaven  reminding  them  of  the 
promise  of  deliverance  so  often  uttered  by  the  chaplain. 
The  whole  chapter  from  which  the  text  was  taken 
had  a  peculiar  significance.  It  commences  :  "  Blow 
ye  the  trumpet  in  Zion,  and  sound  an  alarm  in  my 
holy  mountain  :  let  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  land 
tremble,  for  the  day  of  the  Lord  cometh,  for  it  is  nigh 
at  hand,  a  day  of  darkness  and  gloominess,  a  day  of 
clouds  and  thick  darkness,  as  the  morning  spread  upon 
the  mountains,  a  great  people  and  a  strong  ;  there 
hath  not  ever  been  the  like.  *  *  A  fire  devoureth 
before  them,  and  behind  them  a  flame  burnetii  ;  the 
land  is  as  the  garden  of  Eden  before  them,  and  behind 
them  a  desolate  wilderness."  So  the  verses  imme- 
diately preceding  the  text  had  a  solemn  power  in  them, 
that  the  most  indifferent  could  not  fail  to  feel  :  "  Let 
the  priests,  the  ministers  of  the  Lord,  weep  between 
the  porch  and  the  altar,  and  let  them  say,  Spare  thy 
people,  0  Lord,  and  give  not  thine  inheritance  to 
reproach,  that  the  heathen  should  rule  over  them. 
Wherefore  should  they  say  among  the  people,  Where 
is  their  God  ?  Then  will  the  Lord  be  jealous  for  his 
land,  and  pity  his  people.  Yea,  the  Lord  will  answer, 
and  say  unto  his  people,  Behold,  I  will  send  you  corn, 
and  wine,  and  oil,  and  ye  shall  be  satisfied  therewith  : 
and  I  will  no  more  make  you  a  reproach  among  the 


184  TIMOTHY      DWIG1IT. 

heathen,  but  I  will  remove  far  off  from  you  the 
utrtkem  army.  °  °  :::  Fear  not,  0  Land,  be 
glad  and  rejoice,  for  the  Lord  will  do  great  things." 
The  language  applied  with  wonderful  force  to  the 
invasion  and  overthrow  of  Burgoyne.  The  "  day  of 
darkness  and  gloominess,  the  day  of  clouds  and  thick 
darkness"  had  in  reality  come  upon  them.  Before  the 
resistless  legions  of  Burgoyne  the  inhabitants  of  the 
land  had  fled  in  terror,  and  desolation  marked  their 
progress.  It  was  a  time  for  "  the  ministers  of  the 
Lord  to  weep  between  the  porch  and  the  altar,"  and 
cry,  "  Spare  thy  people,  0  Lord."  Their  prayer  had 
been  answered,  and  God  had  u  removed  the  northern 
army"  forever,  and  they  could  now  shout  aloud,  "Fear 
not,  0  land,  be  glad  and  rejoice  !"  The  theme  was 
one  peculiarly  adapted  to  Dwight's  glowing  imagina- 
tion and  enthusiastic  patriotism.  He  painted  in  vivid 
colors  the  terror  and  dismay  this  northern  invasion 
had  spread  through  the  land,  described  the  victory  and 
exultation  of  the  people,  giving  God  all  the  glory,  and 
declared  that  he  saw  in  it  the  bright  assurance  of  final 
triumph. 

The  officers  and  soldiers  were  carried  away  by  his 
eloquence,  and  Putnam  was  especially  delighted,  and 
did  not  attempt  to  conceal  his  pleasure,  but  nodded 
and  smiled  in  delighted  approval  throughout  the  dis- 
course, though  he  did  not  for  a  moment  suppose  the 
text  was  in  the  Bible,  but  rather  an  inference  which 
Dwight  had  drawn  from  the  preceding. passages.  After 
service  was  over,  he  was  loud  in  his  expressions  of  ad- 
miration of  the  sermon  and  the  preacher,  but  remarked 


ANECDOTE     OF     PUTNAM.  185 

at  the  same  time  to  some  of  the  officers,  that  of  course 
there  was  no  such  text  in  the  Bible,  and  that  it  was 
made  up  by  D wight  for  the  occasion — still,  he  said,  the 
sermon  was  just  as  good  for  all  that.  The  officers 
smiled  in  reply,  saying  that  D wight  had  taken  no  such 
liberty  with  the  sacred  volume,  for  the  text  was  really  in 
it.  Putnam,  however,  stoutly  denied  it,  and  refused 
to  yield  the  point,  till  one  of  them  brought  a  Bible, 
and  pointed  it  out  to  him.  He  could  at  first  hardly 
believe  his  own  eyes,  yet  there  it  was,  beyond  all  cavil. 
He  read  it  over  carefully,  and  then  exclaimed  :  "  Well, 
there  is  every  thing  in  that  book,  and  Dwight  knows 
just  where  to  lay  his  finger  on  it." 

The  forest-clad  Highlands  had  put  on  their  most 
gorgeous  apparel,  as  if  on  purpose  to  celebrate  this 
great  victory,  and  all  the  glories  of  an  American  au- 
tumn were  spread  upon  the  mountains.  The  dreary 
atmosphere  resting  like  a  gentle  haze  upon  the  sleep- 
ing river — wild  fowl  sweeping  in  clouds  far  over  head, 
seeking  the  sea  —  the  falling  leaf:  all  disposed  the 
poetic  mind  of  Dwight  to  musing,  and  he  spent  many 
of  his  leisure  hours  strolling  through  the  forest  and 
cedar  groves  near  the  encampment.  His  country  ever 
lay  uppermost  in  his  heart,  and  the  victory  at  Saratoga 
had^filled  his  mind  with  the  brightest  anticipations  of 
her  future  glory,  and  he  here  composed  the  well-known 
ode,  commencing  :  — 

"  Columbia  !  Columbia  !  to  glory  arise, 
Thou  queeu  of  the  world,  and  child  of  the  skies." 

The   last   verse   beautifully   describes    the   circum- 


186  TIMOTHY     D  WIGHT. 

stances  connected  with  its  composition,  and  one  fa- 
miliar with  the  cedar-clad  shores  of  this  region  can 
easily  picture  the  quiet  rambles  of  the  young  poet. 
He  says  : — 

"  Thus,  as  down  a  lone  valley  with  cedars  o'erspread, 
From  war's  dre&d  confusion  I  pensively  strayed, 
The  gloom  from  the  face  of  fair  heaven  retired — 
The  winds  ceased  to  murmur,  the  thunder  expired — 
Perfumes  as  of  Eden  flowed  sweetly  along, 
And  a  voice  as  of  angels  enchantingly  sung: 
'  Columbia  !   Columbia  !  to  glory  arise, 
The  queen  of  the  world,  and  child  of  the  skies.'  " 

I  give  below  the  entire  ode;°  that  it  may  be  read 

*  Columbia!  Columbia!  to  glory  arise, 
The  queen  of  the  world,  and  child  of  the  skies  I 
Thy  genius  commands  thee;  with  rapture  behold 
While  ages  on  ages  thy  splendor  unfold. 
Thy  reign  is  the  last  and  the  noblest  of  time, 
Most  fruitful  thy  soil,  most  inviting  thy  clime ; 
Let  the  crimes  of  the  east  ne'er  encrimson  thy  name, 
Be  freedom,  and  science,  and  virtue  thy  fame. 

To  conquest  and  slaughter  let  Europe  aspire, 
Whelm  nations  in  blood,  and  wrap  cities  in  fire; 
Thy  heroes  the  rights  of  mankind  shall  defend, 
And  triumph  pursue  them,  and  glory  attend. 
A  world  is  thy  realm — for  a  world  be  thy  laws, 
Fnlarged  as  thine  empire,  and  just  as  thy  cause; 
On  freedom's  broad  basis  that  empire  shall  rise, 
Extend  with  the  main,  and  dissolve  with  the  ukics. 

Fair  science  her  pates  to  thy  sons  shall  unbar, 
And  the  east  see  thy  morn  hide  the  beams  of  her  star. 
New  bards  and  new  sages  unrivalled  shall  soar 
To  fame,  unextinguished  when  time  is  no  more; 
To  thee,  the  last  refuse  of  virtue  designed, 
Shall  fly  from  all  nations  the  best  of  mankind  ; 
here,  grateful  to  heaven,  with  transport  shall  bring 
Their  incense,  more  fragrant  than  odor.1  of  spring. 


ODE     TO     COLUMBIA.  187 

in  the  light  of  these  interesting  facts.  Written  only- 
one  year  after  the  struggle  commenced,  it  exhibits  a 
wonderful  faith  in  the  final  triumph  of  the  Colonies, 
and  its  inspiring  prophecies  read  to-day  like  descrip- 
tions of  past  events.  The  young  divine  and  poet  cer- 
tainly saw  farther  than  most  men,  and  the  glowing 
future  spread  out  before  him  in  entrancing  grandeur 
and  beauty. 

Mr.  Dwight  did  not  content  himself  with  composing 
this  national  ode,  but,  with  Barlow,  Trumbull  and 
others,  wrote  several  patriotic  songs,  which  became 
great  favorites  not  only  in  the  army,  but  throughout 
the  land.     He  felt  the  full  force  of  the  celebrated  sav- 


Nor  less  shall  thy  fair  ones  to  glory  ascend, 
And  genius  and  beauty  In  harmony  blend  ; 
The  graces  of  form  shall  awake  pure  desire, 
And  the  charms  of  the  soul  ever  cherish  the  fire. 
Their  sweetness  unmingled,  their  manners  refined, 
And  virtue's  bright  image  enstamped  on  the  mind, 
With  peace,  and  soft  rapture  shall  teach  life  to  glow, 
And  light  up  a  smile  in  the  aspect  of  woe. 

Thy  fleets  to  all  regions  thy  power  shall  display, 
The  nations  admire,  and  the  oceans  obey  ; 
Each  shore  to  thy  glory  its  tribute  unfold, 
And  the  east  and  the  south  yield  their  spices  and  gold. 
As  the  day  spring  unbounded  thy  splendor  shall  flow, 
And  earth's  little  kingdoms  before  thee  shall  bow, 
While  the  ensigns  of  union  in  triumph  unfurled, 
Uush  the  tumult  of  war,  and  give  peace  to  the  world. 

Thus,  as  down  a  lone  valley  with  cedars  o'ersprcad, 
From  war's  dread  confusion  I  pensively  strayed — 
The  gloom  from  the  face  of  fair  heaven  retired — 
The  winds  ceased  to  murmur,  the  thunder  expired— 
Perfumes  as  of  Eden  flowed  sweetly  along, 
And  a  voice  as  of  Angela  enchantingly  sung: 
Columbia!  Columbia!  to  glory  arise, 
The  queen  of  the  world,  and  child  of  the  skies  I 


188  TIMOTHY     DWIGIIT. 

ing — "  Let  me  write  the  songs  of  a  nation,  and  you 
may  make  its  laws." — He  was  aware  that  the  heart  of 
the  people  was  moved  far  more  by  them  than  by 
harangues,  and  that  they  reached  every  class. 

At  this  time  he  finished  another  poem  entitled,  "  The 
Conquest  of  Canaan/'  and  dedicated  it  to  "  George 
Washington,  Esq.,  commander-in-chief  of  the  Amer- 
ican armies — the  savior  of  his  country — the  supporter 
of  freedom,  and  the  benefactor  of  mankind." 

Unacquainted  with  Washington  personally,  he  was 
averse  to  apply  to  him  directly  for  the  privilege  of 
dedicating  it  to  him,  and  asked  General  Parsons  to  be 
the  medium  through  which  he  could  make  his  request 
known.  The  general,  proud  of  his  young  chaplain, 
cheerfully  consented.  * 

*  General  Parsons  to  General  "Washington  : — 

"  Camp  West  Point,  March  7th,  177S. 
"Dear  General — The  writer  of  the  letter,  herewith  transmitted 
you,  is  a  chaplain  of  the  brigade  under  my  command.  He  is  a  per- 
son of  extensive  literature,  an  amiable  private  character,  and  has  hap- 
pily united  that  virtue  and  piety,  which  ought  ever  to  form  the  char- 
acter of  a  clergyman,  with  the  liberal,  generous  sentiments  and  agree- 
able manners  of  a  gentleman. 

"  The  merits  of  the  performance  he  mentions  I  am  not  a  competent 
judge  of ;  many  gentlemen,  of  learning  and  taste  for  poetical  writings, 
who  have  examined  it  with  care  and  at  tout  ion.  esteem  this  work  in  the 
class  of  the  best  writings  of  the  kind.  He  will  be  particularly  obliged 
by  your  Excellency's  consent  that  this  work  should  make  its  public 
appearance  under  your  patronage.  *  *  * 
"  I  am,  with  irreat  esteem, 

"  Your  Excellency's  obedient,  humble  servant, 

*  Samuel  H.  Parsons. 
"To  Geo.   Washington." 


DEDICATION     TO     WASHINGTON.         189 

But  though  such  streams  of  glory  irradiated  the 
departing  footsteps  of  autumn,  dark  clouds  and  a 
threatening  sky  heralded  the  coming  on   of   winter. 

The  following  is  the  enclosed  letter  to  which  he  refers : — 

"  May  it  please  your  Excellency  : 

"  The  application,  which  is  the  subject  of  this  letter,  is,  I  believe* 
not  common  in  these  American  regions,  yet  I  can  not  but  hope  it  will 
not  on  that  account  be  deemed  impertinent  or  presumptuous.  For 
several  years  I  have  been  employed  in  writing  a  poem  on  the  Conquest 
of  Canaan  by  Joshua.  This  poem,  upon  the  first  knowledge  of  your 
Excellency's  character,  I  determined  with  leave  to  inscribe  to  you.  If 
it  will  not  be  too  great  a  favor,  it  will  certainly  be  remembered  with 
gratitude. 

<;  I  am  not  insensible  that  the  subject  of  this  request  is  delicate ;  as 
consent  on  the  part  of  your  Excellency  can  not  possibly  add  to  your 
reputation,  it  may  be  followed  by  consequences  of  a  disagreeable  na- 
ture. Of  the  merit  or  demerit  of  t'.ie  work  your  Excellency  can  not 
form  a  guess,  but  from  the  character  of  the  writer,  with  which  you 
will  be  made  acquainted  by  General  Parsons,  who  does  me  the  honor 
to  enclose  this  in  one  from  himself.  All  that  I  can  say  upon  the  sub- 
ject (and  I  hope  I  may  assert  it  with  propriety)  is  that  I  am  so  inde- 
pendent a  republican,  and  so  honest  a  man,  as  to  be  incapable  of  a 
wish  to  palm  myself  upon  the  world  under  the  patronage  of  another; 
as  to  be  remote  from  any  sinister  will  in  this  application,  and  to  dis- 
dain making  the  proffer,  slight  as  it  be,  to  the  most  splendid  personage 
for  whose  character  I  have  not  a  particular  esteem. 
"  I  am,  with  great  respect, 

"  Your  Excellency's  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 

''Timothy  Dwight,  Jr. 

"March  8th,  1778." 

To  this  dignified  and  manly  letter  Washington  made  the  following 
reply : — 

"Head-Quarters,  Valley  Forge,  18th  March,  177^. 
"Dear  Sir — I  yesterday  received  your  favor  of  the  8th  iust.,  ac- 
companied by  so  warm  a  recommendation  from  General  Parsons,  that 


190  TIMOTHY     DWIGHT. 

The  army  under  Washington,  after  committing  itself 
with  solemn  religious  ceremonies  to  the  God  of  liberty, 
took  up  its  painful,  suffering  march  for  Valley  Forge. 
The  same  severe  winter  that  wrought  such  misery  and 
desolation  in  that  encampment  of  naked,  starving  men, 
closed  round  the  Highlands  with  a  silent  gloom  that 
made  those  within  its  fastnesses  forget  the  joy  and 
exultation  of  the  autumn  that  had  past. 

The  recent  successful  attempt  of  Clinton  to  force 
the  Highlands,  and  the  narrow  escape  the  Colonies 
had  made,  showed  the  imperative  necessity  of  taking 
more  efficient  measures  to  fortify  them.  Engineers 
were  therefore  dispatched  to  select  a  site  for  a  fortifi- 
cation less  assailable  than  Forts  Clinton  and  Mont- 
gomery had  proved  to  be,  and  West  Point  was  finally 
chosen  as  possessing  the  greatest  natural  advantages. 
The  Hudson  being  locked  by  ice  in  winter,  it  was  im- 
possible for  the  British  vessels  below  to  annoy  the 
workmen  at  that  season,  and  so,  notwithstanding  the 
intensity  of  the  cold,  and  the  frozen  state  of  the 
ground,  it  was  resolved   to   commence  the  works  at 

I  can  not  but  form  favorable  presages  of  the  merit  of  the  work  you 
propose  to  honor  me  with  the  dedication  of.  Nothing  can  give  me 
more  pleasure  than  to  patronize  the  essays  of  genius,  and  a  laudable 
cultivation  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  which  had  begun  to  flourish  in  so 
eminent  a  degree  before  the  hand  of  oppression  was  stretched  over 
our  devoted  country ;  and  I  shall  esteem  myself  happy  if  a  poem, 
which  has  employed  the  labor  of  years,  will  derive  any  advantage,  or 
bear  more  weight  in  the  world,  by  making  its  appearance  under  a 
dedication  to  me. 

"  I  am,  very  respectfully,  your,  etc. 

"  (3.    Washington. 


SUFFERINGS    AT     WEST     POINT.         191 

once.  General  Parsons,  therefore,  in  the  latter  part  of 
January,  though  the  snow  was  two  feet  deep  on  the 
level,  started  with  his  brigade  for  the  scene  of  opera- 
tions. While  the  unpaid,  naked,  and  starving  soldiers 
were  crouching  and  shivering  in  their  miserable  huts 
at  Valley  Forge,  Parsons'  troops,  almost  as  poorly 
sheltered,  were  toiling  in  the  snow,  under  the  gigantic 
precipices  of  the  Highlands.  And  as  the  chaplains 
shared  the  privations  and  sufferings  of  the  former  in 
their  gloomy  encampment,  so  did  Dwight  cheer  by  his 
presence  and  words  of  encouragement  the  latter  in 
their  painful,  exhausting  labor.  Though  half  fed, 
half  clothed,  and  not  half  paid,  the  men  worked  with 
such  vigor  and  determination  that  soon  formidable 
defences  appeared  on  the  banks  ;  and  by  the  time  navi- 
gation should  be  opened,  it  was  evident  that  an  effect- 
ual barrier  would  be  placed  to  the  enemy's  ships.  The 
sufferings  of  the  troops  during  this  winter  in  the  region 
of  the  Highlands  may  be  partially  imagined  from  the 
following  statement  of  Putnam.  After  remarking 
that  part  of  Meigs'  regiment  was  down  with  the  small 
pox,  he  says  :  "Dubois'  regiment  is  unfit  to  be  ordered 
on  duty,  there  being  not  one  blanket  in  the  regiment. 
Very  few  have  either  a  shoe  or  a  shirt,  and  most  of 
them  have  neither  stockings,  breeches,  nor  overalls. 
Several  companies  of  enlisted  artificers  are  in  the 
same  situation,  and  unable  to  work  in  the  field.  Sev- 
eral hundred  men  are  rendered  useless  merely  for 
want  of  necessary  apparel,  as  no  clothing  is  permitted 
to  be  stopped  at  this  post/' 

To  such  SQldiers   Dwight  had  to  preach  words  of 


192  TIMOTHY     DWIGHT. 

comfort,  and  utter  promises  of  God's  blessing  on  their 
labors.  From  the  depths  of  such  a  night  he  had  to 
promise  a  bright  and  glorious  morning.  He  never 
desponded,  and  though  moved  by  the  suffering  he 
could  not  alleviate,  felt  a  serene  confidence  in  ultimate 
success.  The  faith  of  the  clergy  amid  all  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  fortune  seemed  at  times  almost  presumptuous, 
but  in  the  hour  of  deepest  discouragement,  when  to 
human  eye  there  seemed  no  way  of  deliverance,  they 
pledged  without  hesitation  the  strength  of  Israel's  God 
to  the  cause.  Though  circumstances  were  at  times  so 
disheartening  that  they  seemed  to  ask  in  mockery, 
"  Where  now  is  thy  God  ?"  these  men  unhesitatingly, 
confidently  replied  :  "  Our  God  is  in  the  heavens,  and 
will  assuredly  in  his  own  good  time  make  bare  his  arm 
for  our  deliverance." 

At  length  the  long  and  dreary  winter  melted  away 
into  spring,  the  ice  slowly  yielded  to  the  sun  and  rain, 
and  soon  the  river,  which  for  so  long  a  time  had  pre- 
sented a  white  and  silent  surface,  was  turbulent  with 
the  heaving,  grinding  masses  that  came  driving  down 
on  the  tide.  Dwight  lodged  a  part  of  the  time  with 
Parsons,  and  a  part  of  the  time  with  Putnam,  in  the 
house  of  Beverly  Johnson,  which  was  afterwards  oc- 
cupied by  Arnold. 

The  following  little  episode  in  the  duties  of  his 
office  exhibit  his  keen  appreciation  of  natural  scen- 
ery, and  at  the  same  time  presents  a  graphic  picture 
of  the  country  surrounding  West  Point  in  early 
spring.  .  One  Sunday,  in  the  middle  of  March,  after 
having  performed  religious  services,  he  found  his  quar- 


SUGAR     LOAF     MOUNTAIN.  193 

ters  such  a  scene  of  confusion  from  the  constant  ar- 
rival of  officers  and  others,  who  came  to  report  or 
receive  orders,  that  to  escape  it,  he,  with  Major  Hum- 
phrey, resolved  to  ascend  Sugar  Loaf  Mountain.  This 
was  a  laborious  and  difficult  task,  for  the  sides  of  the 
mountain  were  not  only  very  steep,  but  covered  with 
huge  boulders  and  fragments  of  rock,  that  gave  way 
to  the  foot  as  they  struggled  upward.  At  length, 
however,  the  dreary  top  was  reached,  and  a  strangely 
wild  and  sublime  scene  lay  spread  out  before  them. 
Around  them,  in  awe-inspiring  proximity,  arose  the 
naked,  savage  forms  of  the  group  of  mountains  that 
compose  the  Highlands,  completely  locking  them  in, 
except  at  the  north  where  stretched  away  the  turbulent 
Hudson.  The  landscape  was  grand  and  desolate,  with 
not  a  single  cheerful  object  to  relieve  its  savage  aspect. 
"  Every  thing/'  he  said,  "  which  we  beheld  was  ma- 
jestic, solemn,  wild,  and  melancholy.  The  grandeur 
of  the  scene  defies  description/'  West  Point,  dotted 
with  white  tents,  lay  beneath  the  barren  mountains, 
which  stood  like  sentinels  around  them,  while  far  as  the 
eye  could  reach,  northward,  moved  vast  fields  of  float- 
ing ice,  now  crashing  against  the  shore,  sending  deep 
muffled  groans  up  the  far  heights,  or  echoing  in  sullen 
thunder  through  the  gorges.  At  intervals  came  loud 
explosions,  caused  by  the  rending  masses,  and  sounding 
like  distant  cannon.  "  Cottages  were  thinly  sprinkled 
over  the  mountainous  regions  in  the  east,  in  size  re- 
sembling a  dove  cage,  surrounded  by  little  fields  cov- 
ered with  snow,  and  spotting  with  white  the  vast  ex- 
pansion of  the  forest  with  which  the  mountains  are 

9 


194  TIMOTHY     D  WIGHT. 

overspread.  Each  seemed  of  itself  to  have  dropped 
from  the  clouds,  in  places  to  which  the  rest  of  the 
world  would  never  have  access,  and  out  of  which  they 
would  never  find  a  way  into  the  world.  It  is  difficult 
to  conceive  of  any  thing  more  solemn  or  more  wild  than 
the  appearance  of  these  mountains.  An  immense 
forest  covered  them  to  their  summits.  Its  color  was  a 
deep  brown  —  its  aspect  that  of  a  universal  death. 
The  sun  had  far  declined  in  the  west,  clouds  of  a  sin- 
gula^ misty  appearance  overcast  his  splendor,  and  ar- 
raying his  face  with  a  melancholy  sadness,  imparted  a 
kind  of  funereal  aspect  to  every  object."  Mill  streams, 
swollen  with  melted  snows,  roar  like  the  ocean,  min- 
gled in  with  the  sound  of  crashing  ice  below.  Far 
away  to  the  southward  were  the  ruins  of  Fort  Mont- 
gomery, where  umore  than  one  hundred  of  our  coun- 
trymen became  victims,  a  few  months  since,  to  the 
unprincipled  claims  of  avarice  and  ambition.  These, 
and  countless  millions  more,  will  at  the  final  judgment 
rise  up  as  terrible  witnesses  against  the  pride,  rapacity, 
and  cruelty  of  those  who  have  been  the  ultimate 
cause  of  their  destruction."  There,  too,  was  West 
Point,  where  "  the  same  scenes  of  slaughter  may  not 
improbably  be  soon  enacted  over  again." 

"  The  day  was  warm  and  spring-like.  The  campaign 
was  about  to  open,  a  campaign  in  which  a  thousand 
unnecessary  miseries  will  be  suffered.  Parents  will  bo 
made  childless,  wives  will  be  made  widows,  and  chil- 
dren will  be  made  orphans.  Many  a  house,  where 
peace,  cheerfulness,  and  delight  would  love   to  dwell, 


THE     UNBURIED     DEAD.  195 

will  probably  be  reduced  to  ashes,  and  many  a  family 
to  want  and  despair." 

"The  ruins  of  Fort  Montgomery  "  which  he  de- 
scribes as  arresting  his  attention,  were  soon  after  vis- 
ited by  some  officers,  and  he  accompanied  them. 
Floating  leisurely  down  the  river,  they  moored  their 
boats  beneath  the  ruins,  and  began  their  explorations. 
"  The  first  thing/'  says  Dwight,  "that  met  our  eyes, 
after  we  left  our  barge,  was  the  remains  of  a  fire  kin- 
dled by  the  cottagers  of  this  solitude,  for  the  purpose 
of  consuming  the  bones  of  some  of  the  Americans  who 
had  fallen  at  this  place,  and  had  been  left  unburied. 
Some  of  these  bones  were  lying  partially  consumed 
round  the  spot  where  the  fire  had  been  kindled,  and 
some  had  evidently  been  converted  into  ashes.  As  we 
went  onward,  we  were  distressed  by  the  foetor  of  de- 
cayed human  bodies.  To  me  this  wTas  a  novelty,  and 
more  overwhelming  and  dispiriting  than  I  am  able  to 
describe.  As  we  were  attempting  to  discover  the 
source  from  which  it  proceeded,  we  found  at  a  small 
distance  from  the  fort  a  pond  of  moderate  size,  in 
which  we  saw  the  bodies  of  several  men  who  had  been 
killed  in  the  assault  upon  the  fort.  They  were  thrown 
into  this  pond  the  preceding  autumn  by  the  British, 
when  probably  the  water  was  sufficiently  deep  to  cover 
them.  Some  of  them  were  covered  at  this  time,  but 
at  a  depth  so  small  as  to  leave  them  distinctly  visible. 
Others  had  an  arm,  a  leg,  and  a  part  of  the  body 
above  the  surface.  The  clothes  they  wore  when  they 
were  killed  were  still  on  them,  and  proved  that  they 
were   militia,   being   the    ordinary   dress   of    formers. 


196  TIMOTHY     DWIOHT, 

Their  faced  were  bloated  and  monstrous,  and  their 
postures  wore  uncouth  and  distorted,  and  in  the  high- 
est degree  afflictive.  My  companions  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  the  horrors  of  Avar,  and  sustained  the  pros- 
pect with  some  degree  of  firmness.  To  me,  a  novice 
in  scenes  of  this  nature,  it  was  overwhelming.  I  sur- 
veyed it  a  moment,  and  hastened  away.  From  this 
combination  of  painful  objects  we  proceeded  to  Fort 
Clinton,  built  on  a  rising  ground,  a  little  farther  down 
the  river.  The  ruins  of  the  fortress  were  a  mere  coun- 
terpart of  those  of  Fort  Montgomery.  Every  thing 
which  remained  was  a  melancholy  piece  of  destruction. 
Wc  went  from  this  to  find  the  grave  of  Count  Gra- 
bourkil,  a  Polish  nobleman,  who  was  killed  in  the  as- 
sault. The  grave  was  pointed  out  by  Col.  Livingston, 
who  saw  him  fall." 

With  the  advance  of  spring,  formidable  prepara- 
tions for  the  summer  campaign  were  set  on  foot,  to 
which,  on  the  last  of  April,  a  mighty  impetus  was 
given  by  the  arrival  of  the  news,  that  France  had 
joined  our  cause,  and  declared  war  with  England. 
The  battle  of  Saratoga  had  fixed  her  wavering  policy, 
and  now  not  only  ships  and  men,  but  money  and  cloth- 
ing were  promised.  Universal  confidence  wras  restored, 
and  strong  aggressive  movements  against  the  enemy 
were  planned  in  every  part  of  the  Colonies. 

In  the  meantime  a  Bad  calamity  overtook  the  family 
of  Dwight,  which  changed  all  his  plans.  The  year 
before,  his  father,  with  two  of  his  sons,  went  to  the 
southwestern  part  of  Mississippi,  to  provide  for  a  per- 
manent settlement  on  a  tract  of  land  which  he  and  his 


LEAVES     THE     ARMY.  197 

brother-in-law,  General  Lyman,  had  received  as  a 
grant  from  the  crown.  While  carrying  out  his  plans, 
he  was  taken  sick  at  Natchez,  and  died  during  the 
winter  that  his  son  Timothy  was  serving  as  chaplain 
in  the  Highlands.  Owing  to  the  unsettled  state  of 
the  country,  and  uncertain  modes  of  communication 
with  that  then  remote  portion  of  the  country,  the  latter 
did  not  receive  the  news  of  his  father's  death  for  several 
months.  The  support  and  comfort  of  his  widowed 
mother  seemed  now  to  him  his  first  duty,  and  he  im- 
mediately resigned  his  office  as  chaplain,  and  went  to 
Northampton  where  she  resided,  and  for  the  next  five 
years  devoted  himself  to  her  welfare.  The  history  of 
his  after  career  does  not  come  within  the  design  of  this 
sketch.  From  1778  to  1781  he  supplied  successively 
vacant  congregations  in  Westfield,  Muddy  Brock, 
Deerfield,  and  South  Hadley.  In  November  of  the 
latter  year  he  preached  an  eloquent  sermon  on  the 
capture  of  Cornwallis.  At  this  time  he  was  prevailed 
on  to  give  his  services  to  his  country  temporarily  in 
political  life,  and  represented  Northampton  in  1781-2 
in  the  General  Court  of  Massachusetts.  In  1783  he 
was  settled  over  the  church  in  Greenfield,  Conn.  In 
1785  he  published  a  poem  in  eleven  books,  entitled 
"The  Conquest  of  Canaan/'  Besides  this  he  pub- 
lished two  other  poems,  called  "  The  Triumph  of  Infi- 
delity," and  "  Greenfield  Hill."  In  1795  he  was 
elected  president  of  Yale  College.  From  this  time  he 
became  one  of  the  acknowledged  theological  leaders  in 
this  country,  and  his  works  were  well  known  in  Europe. 
Partaking  of  the  prejudices  of  New  England,  he  was 


198  TIMOTHY     DWIGHT. 

bitterly  opposed  to  the  war  of  1812,  and  imbibing  the 
same  erroneous  views  that  characterized  the  old  fed- 
eralists respecting  the  struggle  of  Revolutionary  Franco 
and  the  character  of  Napoleon,  he  opposed  both  with 
a  warmth,  one  might  say  bitterness,  of  spirit  that  al- 
ways accompanies  views  founded  on  prejudice,  and  not 
on  fact.  His  fame  as  a  theologian,  his  eloquence  as  a 
preacher,  his  success  as  president  of  Yale  College,  and 
his  excellence  as  a  man  and  Christian  are  known 
throughout  the  land.  A  devoted  patriot  and  faithful 
preacher,  his  brilliant  talents  and  best  feelings  were 
given  to  his  country  and  his  God,  and  he  rested  from 
his  labors  in  1816,  at  the  age  of  sixty-four. 


CHAPTER     XVIII. 

XAPIITALI   DAGGET. 

Professor  of  Divinity  inVI'ale  College.— Tiik  College  broken  up. —  Inva- 
sion' of  Tryon. — Terror  of  the  Inhabitants. — A  Company  of  a  Hundred 
Yol'no  Mkn  raised  to  resist  him. — Dr.  Dagget  and  his  black  Maui:. — 
Advancf.s  alone  to  reconnoiter.— The  Fight.— The  Retreat. —  Dr.  Dag- 
get   REFUSES    TO    RUN. —  INTERVIEW    WITH     THF.     BRITISH    OFFICER. —  FORCED    TO 

guide  the  Column.— Brutal  Treatment.— Rescued  by  a  Tory.— His   Sick- 
ness.— Death. 

Naphthali  Dagget,  D.  D.,  professor  of  divinity, 
and  for  a  time  President  of  Yale  College,  was  another 
distinguished  clergyman,  who  was  as  illustrious  for 
his  patriotism  as  for  his  theological  learning.  He  in- 
structed the  students  in  the  duty  of  resistance  to  Great 
Britain  as  earnestly  as  he  did  in  that  of  obedience  to 
God  ;  indeed,  he  regarded  them  as  one  and  the  same 
duty. 

In  1779,  the  college  had  recovered  from  the  panic 
that  had  scattered  the  students  into  various  towns  in 
the  interior,  and  was  in  a  prosperous  condition.  But, 
in  the  midst  of  its  tranquillity,  a  rumor  reached  New 
Haven  that  General  Tryon  was  preparing  to  make  a 
descent  upon  it.  The  place  was  immediately  thrown 
into  great  alarm,  and  a  meeting  was  called  to  deliber- 
ate on  what  was  to  be  done.  Counsels  were  various 
as  to  the  best  course  to  pursue,  but  Dr.  Dagget 
declared  that  whatever  else  was  determined  upon, 
one  thing  was  clear,  the  citizens  mustfiglit. 


200  NAPHTHALI     DAGGET. 

At  length  the  dreaded  calamity  came,  and  swift 
riders  galloped  into  town,  bringing  the  startling  news 
that  the  British,  twenty-five  hundred  strong,  had 
landed  about  five  miles  distant  at  West  Haven.  At 
once  all  was  confusion  and  terror.  The  college  was 
hurriedly  broken  up,  and,  as  all  regarded  it  useless  to 
attempt  to  resist  so  large  a  body  of  regular  troops,  it 
was  determined  that  early  in  the  morning  the  inhabit- 
ants and  students  should  take  their  flight  into  the  in- 
terior, and  leave  the  place  to  the  mercy  of  the  ma- 
rauders. To  give  the  former  as  much  time  as  possible 
to  remove  their  goods,  a  volunteer  company  of  a  hun- 
dred young  men  was  formed,  to  retard  the  march  of 
the  British,  by  beating  back  their  advance  guards. 
Accordingly  they  assembled  on  the  green,  with  such 
arms  as  they  could  lay  their  hands  on,  and  paraded  in 
front  of  the  deserted  college.  The  streets  were  filled 
with  the  terrified  fugitives,  as  in  wagons,  on  horse- 
back, and  on  foot,  they  streamed  towards  the  country. 
It  was  a  scene  of  wild  confusion,  and  contrasted 
strangely  with  that  courageous  little  detachment  pre- 
paring to  go  forth  against  such  an  overwhelming 
force. 

At  length  every  thing  being  ready,  drum  and  fife 
struck  up  a  lively  strain,  and  taking  up  its  line  of  march, 
the  band  passed  out  of  the  city.  It  had  not  proceeded 
far,  when  the  clatter  of  horse's  hoofs  was  heard  along 
the  road,  and  the  next  moment  the  reverend  professor 
of  divinity  galloped  up  on  his  old  black  mare,  with  a 
long  fowling-piece  in  his  hand.  He  had  not  contented 
himself  witli  giving  good  jiatriotic  advice,  but  had  re- 


THE     BATTLE.  201 

solved  to  set  an  example.  To  their  surprise,  however, 
he  did  not  stop  to  join  them,  but  pushed  straight  on 
towards  the  enemy.  The  little  band  gave  him  a  loud 
cheer  as  he  passed,  but  the  old  man  never  turned  to 
the  right  or  left,  but  dashed  resolutely  onward,  and, 
ascending  a  hill,  halted  in  a  grove,  and  commenced 
reconnoitering  the  enemy. 

The  detachment,  turning  a  little  to  the  south,  swept 
round  the  base  of  the  hill,  and  kept  on  till  they  came 
in  sight  of  the  advance  guard  of  the  British  ;  when, 
throwing  themselves  behind  a  fence,  they  poured  in  a 
destructive  volley.  The  guard  halted,  and  returned 
the  fire.  But  as  volley  succeeded  volley,  each  more 
deadly  than  the  last,  they  turned  and  fled.  The  young 
volunteers  then  broke  cover,  and  leaping  the  fence, 
pursued  them,  firing  and  shouting  as  they  went. 
Driving  them  from  fence  to  fence,  and  across  field 
after  field,  they  kept  courageously  on,  till  they  sud- 
denly found  themselves  face  to  face  with  the  whole 
hostile  army.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  on  either 
side,  the  green  fields  were  red  with  scarlet  uniforms — 
the  extended  wings  ready,  at  the  word  of  command,  to 
enfold  them,  and  cut  off*  every  avenue  of  escape.  Sud- 
denly halting,  and  taking  in  the  full  extent  of  their 
danger,  they  without  waiting  for  orders,  turned,  and 
ran  for  their  lives. 

As  they  fled  along  the  base  of  the  hill,  on  the  top 
of  which  Dr.  Dagget  had  taken  his  station,  they  saw 
the  venerable  man  quietly  watching  the  advancing 
enemy.  As  the  noise  and  confusion  of  the  flying  de- 
tachment reached  his  ears  he  turned  a  quiet  glance 


202  NAPHTHALI     DAGGET. 

below,  then  leveling  his  fowling-piece  at  the  foe,  blazed 
away.  As  the  British  pressed  after  the  fugitives,  they 
were  surprised  at  the  solitary  report  of  a  gun  every 
few  minutes  from  the  grove  of  trees  on  that  hill.  At 
first  they  paid  but  little  attention  to  it,  but  the  bul- 
lets finding  their  way  steadily  into  the  ranks,  they 
were  compelled  to  notice  it,  and  an  officer  sent  a  de- 
tachment up  to  see  what  it  meant.  The  professoi 
saw  them  coming,  but  never  moved  from  his  position. 
His  black  mare  stood  near  him,  and  he  could  any  mo- 
ment have  mounted  and  fled,  but  this  seemed  never  to 
have  entered  his  head.  He  was  thinking  only  of  the 
enemy,  and  loaded  and  fired  as  fast  as  he  could. 

"When  the  detachment  reached  the  spot  where  he 
stood,  the  commanding  officer,  to  his  surprise,  saw 
only  a  venerable  man  in  black  before  him,  quietly 
loading  his  gun  to  have  another  shot.  Pausing  a  mo- 
ment at  the  extraordinary  spectacle  of  a  single  man  thus 
coolly  fighting  a  whole  army,  he  exclaimed,  "What 
are  you  doing  there,  you  old  fool,  firing  on  His  Majes- 
ty's troops  ?"  The  staunch  old  patriot  looked  up  in 
the  most  unconcerned  manner,  and  replied,  "  Exercis- 
ing the  rights  of  icar."  The  whole  affair  seemed  to 
strike  the  officer  comically  ;  and,  rather  amused  than 
offended  at  the  audacity  of  the  proceeding,  he  said, 
"  If  I  let  you  go  this  time,  you  old  rascal,  will  you 
ever  fire  again  on  the  troops  of  His  Majesty  ?"  "No- 
thing more  likely,"  was  the  imperturbable  reply.  This 
was  too  much  for  the  good  temper  of  the  Briton,  and 
he  ordered  his  men  to  seize  him.     They  did  so  ;  and 


BRUTAL     TREATMENT.  203 

dragged  him  roughly  down  the  hill  to  the  head  of  the 
column. 

The  Americans,  in  their  retreat,  had  torn  down  the 
bridge  over  the  river,  after  crossing  it,  thus  compelling 
the  British  to  march  two  miles  farther  north  to  an- 
other bridge.  The  latter  immediately  placed  Dr. 
Dagget,  on  foot,  at  the  head  of  the  column  as  a  guide, 
and  pressed  rapidly  forward. 

It  was  the  5th  of  July,  and  one  of  the  hottest  days 
of  the  year.  Under  the  burning  rays  of  the  noonday 
sun,  and  the  driving  pace  they  were  kept  at,  even  the 
hardened  soldiers  wilted  ;  while  Dr.  Dagget,  unused 
to  such  exposure,  soon  became  completely  exhausted. 
But  the  moment  he  showed  signs  of  faltering,  the 
soldiers  pricked  him  on  with  their  bayonets,  at  the 
same  time  showering  curses  and  insults  upon  his 
head.  Before  the  five  miles'  march  was  completed, 
the  brave  old  man  was  ready  to  sink  to  the  earth. 
But  every  time  he  paused  and  reeled  as  if  about 
to-  foil,  they  caught  him  on  the  points  of  their  bay- 
onets, and  forced  him  to  rally,  while  the  blood  flowed 
in  streams  down  his  dress.  As  they  entered  the 
streets  of  the  town,  they  commenced  shooting  down 
the  peaceable  citizens  who  had  remained  behind, 
whenever  they  appeared  in  sight,  and  Dr.  Dagget 
expected  every  moment  to  share  their  fate.  At  length 
they  reached  the  green,  when  a  tory,  who  had  come 
out  to  welcome  the  enemy,  recognised  Dr.  Dagget, 
as  he  lay  covered  with  blood  and  dust,  and  requested 
the  officer  to  release  him.    He  did  so,  and  the  wounded 


204  NAPHTHALI     DAGGET. 

patriot  was  carried  into  a  house  near  by,  more  dead 
than  alive. 

His  utter  exhaustion  and  brutal  wounds  combined 
brought  him  to  the  very  gates  of  death,  and  his  life  for 
some  time  was  despaired  of.  He  however  rallied^  and 
was  able  a  part  of  the  next  year  to  preach  in  the 
chapel,  but  his  constitution  had  received  a  shock 
from  which  it  could  not  fully  recover,  and  in  sixteen 
months  he  was  borne  to  the  grave,  one  more  added  to 
the  list  of  noble  souls  who  felt  that  the  offer  of  their 
lives  to  their  country  was  a  small  sacrifice. 


CHAPTER     XIX. 

EZRA   STILES. 

IllS  PEOPnr.CT  RESPECTING  THE  COLONIES,  IN  1760.— PRESIDENT  OF  YALE  COL- 
LEGE.—  Chancellor  Kent's  Eulogy  of  him. —  His  Patriotism. —  Keeps  a 
Diary  of  Revolutionary  Events. — His  Death. 

Ezra  Stiles,  who  succeeded  Dr.  Dagget  as  President 
of  Yale  College,  forms  a  third  in  the  illustrious  trio  of 
patriotic  Presidents  that  Yale  can  boast.  His  far- 
reaching  mind  as  early  as  17G0  seemed  to  foresee  the 
struggle  which  would  eventually  take  place  between 
the  colonies  and  England.  In  a  sermon  delivered  at 
that  time  on  the  reduction  of  Canada  by  the  English 
he  used  the  following  language  :  "It  is  probable  that 
in  time  there  will  be  formed  a  provincial  Confederacy, 
and  a  Common  Council  standing  on  free  provincial 
suffrage,  and  this  may  in  time  terminate  in  an  Imperial 
Diet,  when  the  imperial  dominion  will  subvert  as  it 
ought  in  election."  He  lived  to  see  this  prophecy  ful- 
filled in  the  Continental  Congress.  The  late  Chan- 
cellor Kent,  one  of  his  pupils,  thus  speaks  of  his 
patriotism:  "President  Stiles'  zeal  for  civil  and  re- 
ligious liberty  was  kindled  at  the  altar  of  the  English 
and  New  England  Puritans,  and  it  was  animating  and 
vivid.  A  more  constant  and  devoted  friend  to  the  rev- 
olution and  independence  of  the  country  never  existed. 
He  had  anticipated  it  as  early  as  1760,  and  his  whole 


206  EZRA    STILES. 

soul  was  enlisted  in  every  measure  which  led  on 
gradually  to  the  formation  and  establishment  of  the 
American  Union.  The  frequent  appeals  which  he  was 
accustomed  to  make  to  the  heads  and  hearts  of  his 
pupils  concerning  the  slippery  paths  of  youth,  the 
grave  duties  of  life,  the  responsibilities  of  men,  and  the 
perils  and  hopes  and  honors  and  destiny  of  our  country, 
will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  who  heard  xhem,  and 
especially  when  he  came  to  touch,  as  he  often  did  with 
a  master's  hand  and  j^rophet's  fire,  on  the  bright  vision 
of  the  future  prosperity  and  splendor  of  the  United 
States."  Ezra  Stiles  was  born  at  North  Haven,  Con- 
necticut, December  10th,  1727,  and  died  in  1795,  and 
hence  had  nearly  reached  his  threescore  and  ten.  He 
kept  a  voluminous  diary  during  the  Kevolution,  which 
is  still  preserved  in  manuscript  in  the  library  of  Yale 
College,  and  contains  many  useful  and  interesting  facts 
connected  with  those  times. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

JOEL   BARLOW. 

ttis  Birth  and  Early  Education.— A  Friend  op  Dwigitt.— His  Poem,  "The 
Prospect  of  Peace." — Joins  the  Army  in  Vacations. — Becomes  Chaplain. — 
Writes  Patriotic  Ballads. — "Hymns  for  Yankee  Rebels." — The  Burning 
of  Ciiarlestown." — Occupation  in  the  Army. — Friend  of  Washington. — 
Sermon  on  Arnold's  Treason. — Becomes  Lawyer  and  Editor  at  Hartford, 
Connecticut. — Revises  Watt's  Psalms  and  Hymns.— Agent  of  Scioto  Land 
Company. — Visits  England,  France. — Becomes  enlisted  in  the  French 
Revolution.— His  Occupations  in  Europe.— Consul  at  Algiers. — Makes  a 
Fortune  in  France.— Returns  to  America. — Remarkable  Prophecies  in  nis 
Columbi ad.— Minister  to  France. — His  Death. — Charge  of  Religious 
Apostacy. 

Mr.  Barlow  occupied  so  prominent  a  place  before 
the  public  after  the  Revolution  that  but  little  has  been 
written  of  his  career  as  a  patriot.  Indeed,  there  is  a 
great  dearth  of  details  respecting  his  early  life  in  the 
army,  for  his  own  papers  are  silent  on  the  subject.  He 
was  the  youngest  son  of  fen  children,  and  wras  born  in 
Reading,  Connecticut,  in  1755.  He  entered  Dartmouth 
College  in  1774,  but  before  he  finished  his  course  re- 
moved to  Yale,  where  he  became  acquainted  with 
D  wight,  who  was  tutor  there,  and  a  warm  friendship 
sprung  up  between  the  two  young  patriots  and  poets. 
Entering  wTith  all  the  ardor  of  a  youthful  and  impul- 
sive nature  into  the  revolutionary  struggle,  he  spent 
his  vacations  in  the  army,  fighting  in  the  ranks  like  a 
common  soldier.  At  Whiteplains  he  distinguished 
himself  by  his  bravery.     He  graduated  in  1778,  and 


20S  JOEL     BARLOW. 

on  commencement  day  lelivered  a  poem,  entitled 
"  The  Prospect  of  Peace/'  which  was  published.  His 
early  poems  breathe  the  spirit  of  true  patriotism,  and 
exhibit  an  unbounded  faith  in  the  triumph  of  liberty, 
not  only  in  this  country  but  throughout  the  world.  Of 
America  he  sans; : 

u  On  this  broad  theatre  unbounded  spread 
In  different  scenes  what  countless  throngs  must  tread. 
Soon  on  the  new  formed  empire  rising  fair, 
Calms  her  brave  sons  now  breathing  from  the  war, 
Unfolds  her  harbors,  spreads  the  genial  soil, 
And  welcomes  freemen  to  tho  cheerful  toil." 

After  he  left  college  Barlow  commenced  the  study 
of  law  ;  but  the  Massachusetts  line  being  in  great  need 
of  chaplains,  he  abandoned  it  for  theology,  and  after 
six  weeks'  study  was  licensed  to  preach,  and  entered 
the  army  as  chaplain.  At  the  outset  he  and  D wight 
and  Trumbull  and  Humphreys  and  others  frequently 
wrote  patriotic  songs  for  the  soldiers  and  people,  which 
were  sung  everywhere,  and  had  a  powerful  effect  in  ani- 
mating the  spirits  of  both.  Barlow  had  great  faith  in 
popular  ballads  ;  and  when  he  entered  the  army,  said, 
u  I  do  not  know  whether  I  shall  do  more  for  the  cause 
in  the  capacity  of  chaplain  than  I  could  in  that  of  poet. 
I  have  great  faith  in  the  influence  of  songs,  and  I  shall 
continue  while  fulfilling  the  duties  of  my  appointment 
to  write  one  now  and  then  to  encourage  the  taste  of 
them  which  I  find  in  the  camp.  One  good  song  is  worth 
a  dozen  addresses  or  proclamations."  He  carried  out 
his  resolution,  and  during  the  intervals  of  his  arduous 


REVOLUTIONARY     BALLADS.  209 

campaigns  and  on  the  fatiguir,_;  march  composed  many 
a  stirring  ode,  which  cheered  and  animated  the  soldiers. 
Writing  not  for  fame,  but  to  kindle  patriotic  feeling, 
he  took  no  pains  to  let  their  authorship  be  known,  and 
hence  the  most  of  his  revolutionary  ballads  have  passed 
into  oblivion,  or  exist  as  anonymous  effusions.  Those 
written  by  New  England  patriots  were  stigmatized  as 
"  psalms  and  hymns  adapted  to  the  taste  of  Yankee 
rebels."  Among  these  wre  find  one  written  by  Barlow, 
entitled 

THE  BURNING  OF  CHARLESTOWN. 

After  enlarging  on  the  atrocity  of  the  act  at  some 
length,  he  closes  with  the  following  prophetic  de- 
nunciation :— 

i:  Nor  shall  the  blood  of  heroes,  on  the  plain, 
Who  fell  that  day  in  freedom's  cause, 
Lie  unrevenged,  though  with  thy  thousands  slain, 
"Whilst  there's  a  king  who  fear3  nor  minds  thy  laws. 

Shall  Cain,  who  madly  spilt  his  brother's  blood 

Receive  such  curses  from  the  God  of  all  ? 
Is  not  that  Sovereign  still  as  just  and  good 

To  hear  the  cries  of  children  when  they  call  ? 

Tes,  there's  a  God,  whose  laws  are  still  the  same, 
Whose  years  are  endless,  and  whose  power  is  great: 

He  is  our  God :     Jehovah  is  his  name  : 

With  him  we  trust  our  sore  ojipressed  State. 

"When  He  shall  rise,  (Oh !  Britain,  dread  the  day, 

Nor  can  I  stretch  the  period  of  thy  fate ;) 
"What  heart  of  steel,  what  tyrant  then  shall  sway 

A  throne  that's  sinking  by  oppression's  weight 


210  JOEL     BARLOW. 

Thy  crimes,  Oh  North,  shall  then  like  specters  stand, 
Nor  Charlestown  hindmost  in  the  ghastly  roll, 

And  faithless  Gagr,  who  gave  the  dread  command, 
Shall  find  dire  torments  gnaw  upon  his  soul. 

Yea,  in  this  world  we  trust  those  ills  so  dread, 
That  fill  the  nation  with  such  matchless  woes, 

Shall  fall  with  double  vengeance  on  thy  head, 
Nor  'scape  those  minions  which  thy  court  compose" 

Barlow's  whole  soul  was  so  enlisted  in  the  stru^le 
that  he  seemed  to  have  lost  sight  of  his  individual 
prospects,  in  the  future  of  his  country.  Although 
serving  as  chaplain  in  the  army,  he  evidently  had  no 
design  of  following  the  clerical  profession  for  life.  He 
pursued  it  from  a  sense  of  duty  in  the  existing  emer- 
gencies— as  the  best  way  he  could  serve  the  cause  of 
liberty.  Had  he  remained  a  clergyman  after  the  close 
of  the  war,  the  personal  incidents  connected  with  his 
career  as  chaplain  would  doubtless  have  been  preserved 
with  greater  care,  but  his  subsequent  public  life  ran  in 
such  an  entirely  opposite  channel,  with  which  these 
seemed  to  have  no  connection,  that  they  were  mostly 
overlooked,  and  the  lepers  containing  them  i)erhaps 
destroyed  by  himself. 

Only  now  and  then  we  get  glimpses  of  him — always 
at  his  post — always  confident  and  courageous,  and 
endeavoring  to  infuse  his  spirit  into  others.  We  sec 
the  young  poet  and  preacher  looking  sadly  but  ajiprov- 
ingly  on  the  execution  of  Andre,  and  as  the  body  of 
the  brave,  but  ill-fated  officer,  swings  in  mid-air,  say- 
ing to  those  around  him,  it  is  heaven's  own  justice. 
Soon  after  he  preached  at  West  Point  a  sermon  on  the 


PREACHES    AGAINST     TREASON.         211 

treason  of  Arnold,  in  which  the  vengeance  of  God  was 
proclaimed  against  all  those  who  dared  to  lift  a  trait- 
orous hand  against  their  oppressed  country.  The 
exalted,  fearless  patriotic  spirit  of  the  chaplain  won 
the  heart  of  Washington,  and  he  invited  him  to  dinner, 
placing  him  on  his  right  hand,  while  Stirling  occu- 
pied the  left.  On  another  occasion  we  find  him  on  the 
anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Saratoga  reciting  an  ode 
of  his  own  composition  with  great  eclat,  and  giving  a 
patriotic  toast.  Barlow's  time,  however,  during  the 
war  was  not  wholly  occupied  in  the  discharge  of  his 
duties  as  chaplain,  nor  in  composing  patriotic  songs  for 
the  camp  and  field.  He  also  completed  the  plan  of  an 
elaborate  poem,  entitled  "  The  Vision  of  Columbus/' 
though  it  was  not  published  till  1787. 

At  the  close  of  the  war  he  laid  aside  his  clerical 
profession,  and  returned  to  the  study  of  the  law,  set- 
tling at  Hartford,  Conn.  At  the  same  time  he  edited 
a  weekly  newspaper,  called  "  The  American  Mercury." 
He  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  1785,  and  the  same  year 
was  employed  by  the  u  General  Association  of  Con- 
necticut "  to  correct  and  prepare  Watt's  Psalms  for  the 
use  of  the  churches  under  its  charge.  The  work  was 
satisfactorily  performed,  and  adopted  in  all  the  church- 
es.    Dwight's  collection  subsequently  took  its  place. 

"The  Babylonian  captivity/'  (version  of  the  one 
hundred  and  thirty-eigthth  Psalm,  so  much  admired), 
was  one  of  these,  beiWnnin^  :    " 

JO  o 

u  Along  the  banks  where  Babel's  current  flows, 

Our  captive  bands  in  deep  despondence  strayed ; 
"While  Zion's  fall  in  sad  remembrance  rose 

Her  friends,  her  children,  mingled  with  the  doad." 


212  JOEL     BARLOW. 

The  profession  of  the  law?  however,  did  not  suit  the 
bent  of  his  mind,  and  in  1788  he  accepted  the  agency 
of  the  "  Scioto  Land  Company/'  and  went  to  England 
to  dispose  of  the  property.  But  while  engaged  in 
negotiations  he  discovered  that  the  title  to  the  land 
was  stolen,  and  the  company  a  pack  of  swindlers,  and 
he  resigned  his  position.  Having  now  nothing  to 
occupy  him,  his  attention  was  naturally  directed  to 
France,  at  that  time  fully  launched  on  the  sea  of  rev- 
olution, and  he  crossed  over  to  Paris.  His  sympathies 
immediately  became  deeply  enlisted  for  the  noble  Gi- 
rondins,  and  his  love  of  liberty  being  as  extensive  as 
the  human  race,  his  whole  soul  was  absorbed  in  this 
great,  yet  wild  struggle  of  man  for  his  rights.  Return- 
ing to  England  in  1791,  he  published  the  first  part  of 
his  "Advice  to  the  Privileged  Orders/'  and  in  the 
February  following,  a  poem  on  "  The  Conspiracy  of 
Kings/'  or  the  unholy  alliance  against  France.  Both 
of  these  productions  are  written  in  the  vigorous  style 
and  bold,  daring  spirit  which  characterized  him.  The 
same  year  he  translated  Volney's  "  Ruins  and  He/lec- 
tions on  the  Revolutions  of  Empires/'  which  was 
published  in  London.  The  next  year  he  was  dele- 
gated by  the  "  Constitutional  Society"  in  England, 
of  which  he  was  a  member,  to  carry  an  address  to 
the  French  Convention,  to  which  he  had  already 
written  a  letter.  For  the  performance  of  this  duty 
the  honor  of  French  citizenship  was  conferred  upon 
him.  Soon  after  the  execution  of  Louis  XVI.  he 
wrote  the  following  ode,  a  parody  on  "  God  save  the 
Kin*.* 


HIS     DEATH.  213 

Fame,  let  thy  trumpet  sound, 
Tell  all  the  world  around — 

How  Capet  fell; 
And  when  great  George's  poll 
Shall  in  the  basket  roll, 
Let  mercy  then  control 

The  Guillotine. 

"When  ^11  the  sceptered  crew 
Have  paid  their  homage  to 

The  Guillotine ; 
Let  freedom's  flag  advance, 
Till  all  the  world  like  Franco 
O'er  tyrant's  grave  shall  dance, 

And  peace  begin." 

The  next  year  he  was  made  one  of  a  deputation  sent 
to  organize  the  territory  of  Savoy.  While  here  he 
addressed  a  letter  "  to  the  people  of  Piedmont  on  the 
advantages  of  the  French  revolution,  and  the  necessity 
of  adopting  its  principles  in  Italy"  At  the  same 
time  he  wrote  a  poem,  entitled  " The  Hasty  Pudding  " 
with  a  dedicatory  letter  to  Mrs.  Washington.  His 
brain  seemed  to  be  in  a  state  of  fusion,  throwing  off 
letters,  addresses,  poems,  with  astonishing  rapidity, 
while  outward  occupation  was  as  necessary  to  him  as 
air.  In  1795  he  was  appointed  legal  and  commercial 
agent  to  the  north  of  Europe,  but  was  soon  transferred 
to  a  field  more  congenial  to  his  tastes.  Washington 
appointed  him  consul  to  Algiers,  to  negotiate  a  treaty 
with  the  Barbary  States,  which  he  successfully  execu- 
ted, exhibiting  all  the  daring  and  energy  of  his  nature 
in  behalf  of  the  American  prisoners  there.  Returning 
to  Paris  he  made  a  fortune  in  some  commercial  specu- 
lations, and  purchased  the  hotel  of  the    Count   Cler- 


214  JOEL     BARLOW. 

mont  do  Tonnerre,  ia  which  ho  lived  in  the  style  of  a 
prince.  In  1805  he  returned  to  America  and  built  a 
fine  mansion  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  which  he 
called  "  Kalorama." 

Two  years  after  his  great  work,  the  Columbiad, 
appeared,  dedicated  to  Fulton.  In  this  poem,  which 
is  an  enlargement  of  the  vision  of  Columbus,  occur 
some  of  the  most  remarkable  jirophecies  or  anticipa- 
tions found  in  uninspired  writings.  As  an  example, 
take  the  following  prediction  of  the  construction  of 
the  Erie  canal  : 

u  From  fair  Albania,  tow'rd  the  falling  sun, 
Back  thro'  the  midland,  lengthening  channels  run, 
Meet  the  far  lakes,  their  beauteous  town3  that  lave, 
And  Hudson  join  to  broad  Ohio's  wave." 

This  extraordinary  description  of  the  great  internal 
work  of  New  York  State  was  wTitten  in  1787,  when 
almost  the  entire  country  west  of  Albany  to  Niagara 
was  an  unbroken  wilderness.  American  literature 
furnishes  no  parallel  to  this.  Still  more  remarkable  is 
the  following  prophecy  of  telegraphic  communication: 

u  Ah,  speed  thy  labors,  sago  of  unknown  name, 
Rise  into  light  and  seize  th}'  promised  fame; 
For  thee  the  chemic  powers  their  bounds  expand, 
The  imprisoned  lightning  luaits  thy  guardian  hand, 
Unnumbered  messages  in  viewless  flight 
Shall  boar  thy  mandates  with  the  speed  of  light." 

To  one  who  read  these  productions  in  the  beginning 
of  this  century  they  must  have  appeared  the  incoher- 
ent utterances  of  a  diseased  imagination,  and  the  last 

one    been    pronounced    unintelligible    nonsense — now 


MINISTER     TO     FRANCE.  215 

they  are  accurate  descriptions  of  accomplished  events. 
If  the  name  of  Erie  canal  had  been  inserted  in  the 
former,  and  that  of  Morse  in  the  latter  they  would 
scarcely  have  been  more  definite  and  complete.  In 
language  almost  as  clear  and  emphatic  he  foretells 
Wilkes'  discovery  of  a  southern  continent. 

Always  planning  some  new  work  the  moment  one 
was  finished,  Barlow  now  meditated  a  history  of  the 
United  States,  but  was  cut  short  in  his  labors  by  being 
appointed  minister  to  France  under  Monroe.  In  Oc- 
tober, 1812,  when  Bonaparte  was  returning  from  his 
disastrous  Eussian  campaign,  he  received  an  invitation 
to  meet  him  at  Wilna,  and  immediately  set  off  in 
great  haste.  The  fatigues  and  exposure  of  this  jour- 
ney brought  on  inflamation  of  lungs,  and  on  his  return 
to  Paris  he  died,  December  22d,  at  Zarnawicka,  a 
little  village  near  Cracow.  While  lying  sick  here  he 
dictated,  at  midnight,  a  poem  to  his  Secretary,  enti- 
tled, "Advice  to  a  raven  in  Russia"  a  bitter  denun- 
ciation of  Bonaparte. 

Charges  were  made  against  Barlow  that  he  became 
an  infidel,  though  they  were  never  proved.  They  arose 
from  several  causes.  In  the  first  place,  Barlow  foresaw 
the  changes  in  religious  tolerance  and  theological  teach- 
ings which  have  since  taken  place  in  New  England 
almost  as  clearly  as  he  did  those  in  material  improve- 
ments. In  uttering  or  intimating  these  he  would  in- 
evitably be  accused  of  infidelity,  just  as  ho  was  of 
incoherent  raving  in  predicting  the  latter.  He  was  too 
far  in  advance  of  his  age  to  be  tolerated  by  it. 

In  the  second  place,  no  man  could  be  transplanted 


216  JOEL     BARLOW. 

from  the  heart  of  Puritan  New  England  into  the  midst 
of  the  moral,  social  and  religious  chaos  of  the  French 
Revolution  without  having  his  views  on  many  point  i 
materially  modified.  But  France  was  infidel,  and 
hence  all  changes  effected  by  a  sojourn  on  her  soil  were 
set  down  at  once  as  the  result  of  infidelity.  An  argu- 
ment short  but  incontrovertible  to  the  Puritan  mind 
at  that  time. 

In  the  third  place,  his  adoption  of  some  scientific 
phrases  and  words  used  by  the  neologists  was  equally 
convincing  proof. 

In  the  fourth  place,  he  was  a  friend  of  the  French 
Revolution,  which  the  Federalists  of  New  England 
considered  second  only  in  atrocity  and  wickedness  to 
the  apostacy  of  the  angels. 

In  the  last  place,  and  chiefly,  he  was  a  bitter  anti- 
federalist — a  thorough,  earnest  Jeffersonian.  This, 
though  not  infidelity  itself,  was  its  natural  product, 
and  as  "  by  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them"  is  sound 
doctrine,  the  conclusion  that  Barlow  was  a  skeptic  was 
a  logical  conclusion.  That  his  views  underwent  great 
changes  is  evident — it  could  not  be  otherwise  ;  but  we 
have  nowhere  seen  the  charge  of  having  apostatized 
from  the  faith  of  his  fathers  sustained  by  proof  suffi- 
cient even  to  justify  its  being  made. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

JAMES   CALDWELL. 

His  Birth  and  Ancestry.— Personal  AprEARANCE.— Power  of  his  Voice.— His 
Character.— His  Congregation  at  Elizabetiitown.— Made  Chaplain.— His 
Toast  on  the  Reception  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence.— His  Ac- 
tivity.— Rewards  offered  for  his  Capture.— Removes  to  Connecticut 
Farms.— Goes  Armed.— II is  Services.— Letter  to  Lee.— Assistant  Commis- 
sary General.— Last  Interview  with  his  Wife.— Her  Murder.— Fight  at 
Springfield.— "Give  em  Watts."— Murder  of  Caldwell.— His  Funeral.— 
His  Children.— Monument  to  Him. 

No  man  is  more  deserving  of  a  prominent  place  in 
the  history  of  the  Eevolution  than  Kev.  James  Cald- 
well. He  was  born  in  a  settlement  of  Charlotte 
county,  Virginia,  called  "  Cub  Creek/'  and  was  the 
youngest  of  seven  children.  He  graduated  at  Prince- 
ton College  in  1759,  was  licensed  to  preach  in  1760, 
and  the  next  year  receiving  ordination  was  settled  over 
the  parish  of  Elizabetiitown,  New  Jersey.  His  ances- 
tors were  Huegenots,  who  were  driven  from  France  to 
England  by  religious  persecution,  from  thence  to  Scot- 
land, and  at  last  to  Ireland,  from  which  his  father  emi- 
grated to  this  country.  He  thus  inherited  a  spirit  of 
independence  and  of  resistance  to  tyranny  which  made 
him  from  the  outset  of  our  troubles  enlist  heart  and 
soul  in  the  cause  of  American  independence.  Though 
of  middle  height,  he  was  powerfully  made  and  capable 
of  great  endurance.  His  countenance  in  repose  had  a 
tranquil  and  somewhat  pensive  expression,  but  when 

10 


218  JAMES     CALDWELL. 

roused  with  heroic  daring  there  was  stamped  on  every 
lineament  the  most  dauntless,  unconquerable  resolu- 
tion. His  voice  exhibited  the  same  striking  contrasts. 
On  ordinary  occasions  it  was  low,  sweet  and  musical, 
captivating  the  hearer  by  its  winning  tones  ;  but  when 
he  stood  in  front  of  a  regiment,  haranguing  the  soldiers, 
it  rose  clear  and  distinct  over  the  roll  of  the  drum  and 
piercing  notes  of  the  fife.  Of  refined  feelings,  warm 
and  generous  sympathies,  and  possessing  true  genius, 
he  won  all  hearts,  and  fastened  himself  so  deeply  in 
the  affections  of  his  people  that  to  this  day  his  memory 
is  tenderly  cherished  among  the  inhabitants  of  Eliza- 
bethtown. 

In  the  exciting  scenes  that  immediately  preceded  the 
Revolution,  he  bore  a  prominent  and  leading  part. 
His  congregation  upheld  him  almost  to  a  man,  and 
when  we  remember  that  such  patriots  as  Elias  Boudi- 
not,  William  Livingston,  Francis  Barber,  the  Day  tons 
and  Ogdens  composed  it,  wrc  can  not  wonder  that  both 
pastor  and  people  were  looked  upon  as  head  rebels  of 
the  province,  and  became  peculiarly  obnoxious  to  the 
loyalists.  In  intelligence,  valor  and  patriotism,  they 
had  no  superiors,  and  formed  a  band  of  noble  men,  of 
which  New  Jersey  is  justly  i^roud. 

At  the  first  call  to  arms  the  State  offered  its  brigade 
for  the  common  defence,  and  Mr.  Caldwell  was  elected 
its  chaplain — Col.  Dayton,  his  parishioner,  being  the 
commander.  Col.  Ebenezer  Elmer,  commanding  ono 
of  the  regiments,  gives  the  following  account  of  the 
manner  the  declaration  of  independence  was  received 
by  the  brigade.     The  courier  bearing  the  news  arrived 


patriotic    toast.  219 

at  head  quarters  on  the  15th  of  July,  1776,  causing 
the  most  intense  excitement  and  enthusiasm.  "  At 
twelve  o'clock/'  says  the  Colonel,  "  assembly  was  beat 
that  the  men  might  parade  in  order  to  receive  a  treat, 
and  drink  the  State's  health.  When  having  made  a 
barrel  of  grog,  the  declaration  was  read,  and  the  fol- 
lowing toast  was  given  by  parson  Caldwell: — 'Har- 
mony, honor,  and  all  j)rosperity  to  the  free  and  inde- 
pendent United  States  of  America  :  wise  legislators, 
brave  and  victorious  armies,  both  by  sea  and  land,  to 
the  United  States  of  America.'  When  three  hearty 
cheers  were  given,  and  the  grog  flew  round  a-main." 
Mr.  Caldwell's  activity  and  energy  would  not  allow  him 
to  confine  himself  to  the  duties  of  chaplain.  The 
timid  were  to  be  encouraged,  the  hesitating  brought 
over  to  the  side  of  liberty,  and  the  tories  met  and  baf- 
fled at  every  point.  Hence,  he  would  be  on  the  Sab- 
bath with  his  parish,  the  next  day  in  the  army,  and 
then  traversing  the  country  to  collect  important  infor- 
mation, or  set  on  foot  measures  to  advance  the  common 
cause.  His  immense  popularity  gave  him  an  influence 
that  filled  the  tories  with  rage,  and  made  his  name 
common  as  a  household  word  among  the  British  troops. 
He  at  length  became  such  an  object  of  hate  and  dread 
that  large  rewards  were  offered  for  his  capture.  Con- 
sequently, when  the  enemy  obtained  possession  of  New 
York  and  Staten  Island  his  position  became  one  of 
extreme  peril,  for  his  residence  was  as  well  known  to 
them  as  the  head  quarters  of  the  army.  He,  there- 
fore, took  the  advice  of  his  friends  and  removed  his 
family  to  Connecticut  Farms,  a  small  place  a  few  miles 


220  JAMES     CALDWELL. 

from  Elizabethtown.  As  an  additional  precaution,  he 
Trent  armed,  and  it  was  Well  known  that  no  two  or 
four  men  would  take  him  alive.  Often  when  preach- 
ing in  the  "  old  red  store/'  as  it  was  called,  he  would 
walk  up  to  the  table,  and  unbuckling  a  brace  of  pistols 
lay  them  before  him,  and  then  commence  the  services 
of  the  Sabbath.  Strange  as  such  a  proceeding  may 
seem  at  the  present  day,  this  good  man  at  the  time  did 
not  deem  it  to  demand  a  passing  explanation.  He  was 
engaged  in  what  he  firmly  believed  to  be  the  cause  of 
God,  and  that  cause  he  did  not  consider  would  be 
advanced  by  yielding  himself  unresistingly  into  the 
hands  of  a  skulking  tory  to  be  dragged  to  the  scaffold. 
His  country  needed  his  services,  not  his  death  in  this 
manner,  though  his  life  he  held  cheap  enough  when- 
ever liberty  should  call  for  the  sacrifice. 

The  retreat  of  Washington  through  New  Jersey, 
hotly  pursued  by  Cornwallis,  coming  as  it  did  on  the 
heels  of  the  fall  of  New  York  and  Forts  Washington 
and  Lee,  paralyzed  the  inhabitants  with  terror.  At 
the  very  outset  they  saw  their  State  overrun  with 
hostile  troops,  and  the  struggle  that  had  opened  so 
auspiciously  at  Bunker  Hill,  seemed  about  to  close  in 
sudden  night.  Mr.  Caldwell,  however,  did  not  share 
in  the  general  despondency  produced  by  this  gloomy 
state  of  affairs.  The  darker  the  prospects  became,  the 
higher  rose  his  resolution,  and  the  more  complicated 
and  disheartening  the  condition  of  the  army  grew,  the 
more  persevering  were  his  efforts,  and  the  more  tireless 
his  unsleeping  activity.  lie  seemed  ubiquitous,  for 
scarcely  would  he  be  reported   in  one  place  when  his 


HIS     LETTER     TO     LEE.  221 

presence  was  announced  in  another,  and  nothing  seem- 
ed to  escape  his  keen,  penetrating  scrutiny.  His  spies 
were  everywhere,  and  the  enemy  could  not  make  a 
movement  that  eluded  his  watchful  eye.  The  aid  he 
furnished  at  this  time  to  the  American  army  in  keep- 
ing it  advised  of  every  step  taken  "by  the  invading 
force  was  of  incalculable  service. 

Washington  at  length  crossed  the  Delaware  and 
drew  up  his  enfeebled  army  on  its  farther  shore,  where 
he  waited  with  deep  anxiety  the  advance  of  Lee  from 
the  banks  of  the  Hudson  to  his  assistance.  This 
officer,  ambitious  of  performing  some  brilliant  achieve- 
ment which  should  place  him  in  enviable  contrast  to 
Washington,  lingered  on  his  way,  and  from  one  pre- 
text and  another  deferred  obeying  the  peremptory 
orders  of  his  commander.  Even  when  he  reached 
Morristown  he  postponed  farther  advance  in  hopes  of 
making  an  independent  movement  and  cutting  in  two 
the  extended  lines  of  the  British.  In  order  to  effect  this 
he  constantly  wrote  to  Caldwell  to  keep  him  advised 
of  the  motions  of  the  enemy.  The  latter,  though  he 
knew  Lee's  orders  were  to  move  forward  with  all  pos- 
sible despatch  to  the  main  army,  willingly  furnished 
him  all  the  information  in  his  power.  Lee's  last  letter 
to  him  was  written  on  the  12th  of  December.  Cald- 
well immediately  replied  to  it,  telling  him  that  the 
British  army  had  moved  forward,  leaving  nothing  be- 
hind but  the  guards  of  the  several  posts,  and  then 
added  significantly  that  the  American  militia  had  been 
moved  back  to  Chatam,  where  they  would  be  in  a  sit- 
uation to' be  of  more  service  than  if  farther  in  advance, 


222  JAMES     CALDWELL. 

"until  the  expected  army  approaches  for  their  sup- 
port"  Tho  stern  patriot,  while  rendering  all  the  aid 
in  his  power  to  this  self-conceited  and  ambitious  leader, 
could  not  refrain  from  giving  him  this  delicate  hut  plain 
and  palpable  hint  as  to  his  duty.  The  next  day  this 
haughty  general,  who  was  to  perform  such  wonderful 
achievements,  was  captured  with  his  entire  guard  while 
stopping  at  a  small  tavern  at  Barkenridge. 

After  the  brilliant  victories  at  Trenton  and  Prince- 
ton, Mr.  Caldwell  was  very  little  with  the  main  army, 
but  devoted  his  time  and  services  when  not  engaged 
in  his  parochial  duties  to  the  cause  of  liberty  in  his 
own  State.  Such  was  his  popularity,  and  so  entire 
was  the  confidence  of  the  people  in  his  integrity,  that 
when  the  army  became  greatly  reduced,  and  both  pro- 
visions and  money  were  hard  to  be  obtained,  he  was 
appointed  Assistant  Commissary  General.  He  opened 
his  office  at  Chatam,  and  the  department  felt  at  once 
a  new  impulse  imparted  to  it.  His  ability,  energy, 
popularity  and  well-known  honesty  enabled  him  to  be 
of  incalculable  service,  and  provisions  began  to  pour  in, 
those  bringing  them  accepting  whatever  guarantees  he 
could  give,  and  sometimes  taking  his  simple  word  as 
security.  But  though  he  could  feed  the  troops,  he 
could  not  pay  them  the  money  which  Congress  owed 
them.  In  their  destitute  condition  the  soldiers  Buffered 
greatly  for  the  want  of  this,  and  were  often  on  the 
verge  of  open  rebellion.  When  matters  reached  such 
a  dangerous  crisis  he  would  assemble  them,  and  by  his 
eloquent  appeals,  not  only  allay  the  excitement  of  anger, 
but  kindle  their  enthusiasm  so  that  they  would  promise 


ASSISTANT    COMMISSARY    GENERAL.      223 

to  fight  on  whatever  the  sufferings  and  hardships  they 
might  be  called  to  undergo. 

The  unselfish,  entire  devotion  of  this  gifted  man  to 
his  country  was  of  the  Washington  type — far  above 
the  reach  of  all  external  influence — a  devotion  in  which 
life  itself  and  all  its  outward  interests  were  forgotten, 
or  remembered  only  as  an  offering  ever  ready  to  be 
made  to  her  welfare. 

He  gave  up  his  church  as  a  hospital  for  the  sick  and 
wounded  soldiers,  who,  in  making  tables  of  the  seats, 
often  so  covered  them  with  grease  and  fragments  of 
bread  and  provision  that  the  congregation  on  the  Sab- 
bath would  be  compelled  to  stand  during  the  whole 
service.  When  the  news  of  an  approaching  enemy  was 
received,  its  bell  would  ring  out  the  note  of  alarm,  for 
pastor,  congregation  and  church  were  all  consecrated  to 
the  same  holy  cause. 

The  appointment  of  any  man  to  the  post  of  Assist- 
ant Commissary  General  at  a  time  when  it  was  almost 
impossible  for  the  ablest  officer  to  j^erform  its  duties 
satisfactorily  was  a  high  compliment,  but  when  it  is 
remembered  that  Mr.  Caldwell  was  pastor  of  a  church, 
and  preached  to  his  congregation  every  Sabbath,  the 
selection  of  him  to  fill  it  shows  what  an  exalted  esti- 
mate was  put  upon  his  ability  and  patriotism.  It  was 
not  to  be  expected  that  a  minister  and  people  that  oc- 
cupied so  prominent  a  place  in  the  cause  of  the  Colo- 
nies could  long  escape  the  vengeance  of  the  British. 
It  was  well  known  that  threats  of  the  most  malignant 
kind  had  been  made  against  him,  but  they  took  no 
positive  shape  till  in  January,  1780,  when  a  refugee 


224  JAMES     CALDWELL. 

fired  the  church.  The  villain,  in  confession  of  the 
deed  afterwards,  said  he  was  sorry  that  the  "black- 
coated"  rebel  was  not  burned  in  his  own  pulpit.  The 
inhabitants  were  aroused  by  the  light  of  the  conflagra- 
tion, but  too  late  to  save  the  edifice  sacred  both  to 
freedom  and  to  God,  and  it  was  burned  to  the 
ground. 

The  next  summer,  in  June,  Knyphausen  made  his 
sudden  and  apparently  objectless  inroad  into  New 
Jersey.  On  the  night  of  the  24th  Mr.  Caldwell  slept 
in  his  own  house,  but  was  wakened  early  in  the 
morning  by  the  news  of  the  approach  of  the  enemy. 
Mounting  his  horse  in  haste  he  started  for  head- 
quarters  with  the  information.  He  had  proceeded  but 
a  short  distance,  however,  when  he  began  to  have  seri- 
ous fears  for  his  wife  and  family  that  he  had  loft  bo- 
hind.  The  former,  when  she  bade  him  good-bye,  told 
him  that  she  had  no  apprehensions  for  her  own  safety, 
for  the  enemy,  she  said,  would  not  harm  her  and  her 
little  children.  He  had  often  left  them  in  a  similar 
way  before  and  always  found  them  safe  on  his  return, 
but  now  he  wras  oppressed  with  unusual  anxiety,  and 
after  striving  in  vain  to  shake  it  off  turned  his  horse 
and  galloped  back.  As  he  rode  up  to  the  door  his  wife 
came  out  to  inquire  what  he  wanted.  He  told  her 
that  he  wished  her  and  the  children  to  accompany  him 
to  camp,  for  he  felt  very  uneasy  about  leaving  them 
behind.  But  she  knowing  they  would  encumber  his 
movements,  smiled  at  his  fears,  saying  there  was  no 
danger  at  all,  and  declined  entirely  to  leave  the  house. 
In  the  mean  time  she  went  in  and  brought  from  the 


MURDER    OF     MRS.     CALDWELL.  225 

breakfast  tabic  a  warm  cup  of  coffee.  While  he  sat  on 
his  horse  drinking  it  the  enemy  came  in  sight.  Hand- 
ing back  the  cup,  and  flinging  her  a  hasty  farewell,  and 
commending  her  to  the  care  and  mercy  of  the  God  in 
whom  they  both  trusted,  he  struck  his  spurs  into  his 
horse  and  dashed  away. 

He  had  not  been  gone  long  before  she  had  cause  to 
regret  that  she  had  not  yielded  to  his  entreaties,  for 
columns  of  smoke  rising  in  the  distance — the  screams 
of  terrified  women  and  children  running  through  the 
streets,  told  her  that  the  enemy  was  on  a  raid,  and 
murder  and  devastation  were  marking  their  passage. 
She  saw  at  once  that  she  was  surrounded  with  deadly 
perils,  but  calm  as  became  the  wife  of  a  hero  as  well  as 
clergyman,  she  took  her  infant  and  retired  into  a  private 
room  to  commit  herself  and  children  in  prayer  to  God. 
Arising  from  her  devotions  she  sat  down  upon  the  bed, 
and  was  pondering  on  her  desolate  condition  when  the 
maid,  who  had  accompanied  her  with  the  other  chil- 
dren, stepped  to  the  window  to  look  out.  As  she  did 
so  she  saw  a  "red  coat"  jump  over  the  fence  into  the 
yard.  Alarmed,  she  turned  quickly  and  told  Mrs. 
Caldwell.  The  latter  knew  at  once  that  evil  was  in- 
tended her,  and  arose  from  the  bed  either  to  watch  the 
man's  actions  or  to  pass  out  of  the  room,  when  the 
villain  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  through  the  window. 
He  knew  her  at  a  glance,  and  having  come  on  purpose 
to  kill  her,  he  raised  his  musket,  and  fired  at  her 
through  the  window,  when  she  fell  amid  her  terrified 
children,  pierced  by  two  balls.  In  the  midst  of  the 
alarm  and  confusion  that  followed  the  torch  was  ap- 


22G  JAMES     CALDWELL. 

plied  to  the  house,  and  soon  the  little  parsonage  was 
wrapped  in  flames.  It  was  with  great  difficulty  that 
some  of  the  neighbors  whom  the  maid  informed  of  the 
murder  were  enabled  to  drag  the  body  out  of  the  burn- 
ing building.  But  having  accomplished  this  they  were 
compelled  to  flee,  leaving  it  exposed  in  the  hot  sun  tn 
the  public  street,  where  it  lay  for  hours  with  no  one 
humane  enough  to  throw  a  covering  over  the  pale  and 
ghastly  face.  At  length  some  of  her  friends  obtained 
permission  from  the  enemy  to  remove  it  into  the  only 
house  left  standing  near  by. 

Mr.  Caldwell  was  at  the  "  Short  Hills"  with  the 
army  while  this  murderous  scene  was  being  enacted  at 
his  quiet  home.  That  evening  passing  by  chance  two 
soldiers  who  were  talking  in  whispers,  he  heard  the 
name  of  "  Mrs.  Caldwell"  repeated  two  or  three  times. 
Suspecting  at  once  that  something  was  wrong,  he  asked 
them  what  they  were  talking  about — if  any  thing  had 
happened  to  Mrs.  Caldwell.  They  at  first  hesitated  to 
reply,  unwilling  to  break  to  him  the  painful  intelli- 
gence, but  he  besought  them  so  earnestly  to  let  him 
know  the  worst  that  they  finally  told  him  all.  The 
good  man  staggered  like  a  smitten  ox  under  the  sudden 
blow,  and  turned  pale  as  death.  Rallying,  however, 
he  murmured  a  broken  prayer  and  turned  away  to 
weep  alone.  That  was  a  painful  night  to  the  noble 
patriot,  for  not  only  did  he  mourn  deeply  over  the 
tragical  end  of  his  wife,  whom  he  loved  tenderly, 
but  he  wTas  filled  witli  apprehension  respecting  his 
orphaned  children,  one  of  whom  was  an  infant — now 
in  possession  of  the  enemy.     In  the  morning  he  pro- 


"put    watts    into    them."         227 

cured  a  flag  of  truce  and  went  over  to  "  Connecticut 
Farms."  The  quiet  little  village  was  a  heap  of 
smoking  ruins,  with  only  here  and  there  a  solitary 
building  standing  as  monuments  to  mark  the  desola- 
tion.  In  one  of  these  lay  the  lifeless  body  of  his 
wife,  and  in  an  adjoining  apartment  were  grouped  his 
weeping  children. 

The  enemy,  after  burning  Connecticut  Farms,  kept 
on  towards  Springfield,  with  the  intention  of  commit- 
ting the  same  barbarous  cruelties  there.  Mr.  Cald- 
well, after  seeing  his  wife  buried,  and  his  children 
placed  in  the  care  of  one  of  his  parishioners,  hastened 
forward  to  join  the  army.  At  Springfield  a  sharp 
engagement  took  place  between  the  enemy  and  the 
American  troops,  and  though  the  former  were  com- 
pelled to  beat  a  hasty  retreat,  it  was  not  till  they  had 
burned  the  village  to  the  ground.  Mr.  Caldwell  was 
in  the  hottest  of  the  fight,  and  seeing  the  fire  of  one 
of  the  companies  slackening  for  want  of  wadding,  he 
galloped  to  the  Presbyterian  meeting  house  near  by, 
and  rushing  in,  ran  from  pew  to  pew,  filling  his  arms 
with  hymn  books.  Hastening  back  with  these  into  the 
battle,  he  scattered  them  about  in  every  direction, 
saying  as  he  pitched  one  here  and  another  there,  "  Now 
pat  Watts  into  them,  boys."  With  a  laugh  and  a 
cheer  they  pulled  out  the  leaves,  and  ramming  horns 
the  charges  did  give  the  British  Watts  with  a  will. 

The  next  year  this  patriotic,  gifted  man  met  the 
tragical  fate  of  his  wife,  and  sealed  his  devotion  to  his 
country  with  his  blood. 

New  Jersey  remained  comparatively  tranquil  after 


228  JAMES    CALDWELL. 

the  raid  of  Knyphausen,  and  flags  of  truce  were  con- 
stantly passing  to  and  fro  to  New  York,  and  only  sol- 
diers enough  were  left  in  the  State  to  act  as  sentinels 
at  main  points.  At  this  time  there  lived  in  New  York 
a  family  by  the  name  of  Murray,  who  had  relatives 
residing  in  Elizabethtown,  and  who  were  much  beloved 
by  the  people  in  the  vicinity  for  their  kindness  to  Jer- 
sey prisoners  confined  in  the  city.  One  of  the  family, 
Miss  Murray,  wishing  to  visit  Elizabethtown,  came  to 
Elizabethtown  Point  on  the  24th  of  November,  under 
a  fia£  of  truce.  -  Mr.  Caldwell  went  down  in  a  carriage 
to  meet  her,  and  accompany  her  to  the  town.  The 
details  of  the  events  that  followed,  I  will  let  Dr.  Mur- 
ray tell  in  his  own  language.  "  A  sentry  was  kept  up 
at  that  time  at  the  Fort.  Tying  his  horse  outside  the 
sentinel,  Mr.  Caldwell,  proceeded  to  the  wharf,  and 
taking  with  him  Miss  Murray,  placed  her  in  his  car- 
riage, and  then  returned  to  the  boat  for  a  small  bundle 
•that  belonged  to  her.  Thus,  he  passed  three  times 
the  man  who  was  keeping  guard.  With  a  small  pack- 
age he  was  returning  a  second  time  to  his  carriage, 
when  the  sentinel  ordered  him  to  stop,  thinking,  prob- 
ably, that  there  was  something  contraband  in  the  bun- 
dle. He  replied  that  the  bundle  belonged  to  the  young 
lady  in  his  carriage.  The  sentinel  said  that  it  must  be 
examined.  Mr.  Caldwell  turned  quickly  about  to  carry 
it  back  to  the  boat,  that  it  might  be  opened  there, 
when  the  fatal  ball  struck  him.  The  captain  of  the 
guard  hearing  the  report  of  a  gun  looked  around,  and 
Baw  Mr.  Caldwell  staggering  before  him.  He  ran  and 
caught  hiin  in  his  arms  and  laid  him  on  the  ground, 


HIS    FUNERAL.  229 

and  without  speaking  a  word  he  almost  instantly  ex- 
pired— the  ball  having  passed  through  his  heart. 

The  man  who  shot  him  was  James  Morgan,  belong- 
ing to  the  Jersey  militia — an  Irishman  by  birth,  and 
a  man  of  the  most  debased  and  profligate  character. 
He  was  always  drunk  when  he  could  be  ;  and  liquor 
turned  him  into  a  savage.  His  family  resided  near  a 
well  in  Elizabethtown,  into  which  a  child  of  his  fell 
one  day  and  was  drowned.  When  he  returned  he 
found  his  child  dead,  and  taking  it  by  the  arms  he 
beat  the  broken-hearted  mother  with  the  dead  body  of 
her  own  child  until  her  cries  brought  some  of  the 
neighbors  to  her  rescue." 

"Whether  Morgan  was  on  duty  as  a  sentinel  when  he 
shot  Caldwell  is  at  least  questionable.  It  is  said  that 
on  his  trial  it  wras  proved  that  he  had  just  been  reliev- 
ed. Different  motives  are  assigned  for  the  murder. 
Some  say  that  Morgan  was  angry  because  he  had  not 
received  his  regular  wages,  and  inasmuch  as  Caldwell 
was  commissary,  supposed  "  he  waa  responsible  for 
the  neglect ;  "  others,  again,  say  that  he  was  bribed 
by  the  British,  or  tories.  Whatever  the  motives  might 
have  been  that  influenced  him,  he  was,  after  a  fair 
trial,  convicted  of  murder,  and  hung  the  next  January. 
The  body  of  Mr.  Caldwell  was  placed  on  some  straw 
in  the  bottom  of  a  wagon,  and  taken  up  to  town,  and 
the  next  Tuesday  buried.  Dr.  Murray  thus  describes 
the  funeral  :  "  The  funeral  was  one  of  the  most  solemn 
this  town  has  ever  witnessed.  The  concourse  assem- 
bled on  the  occasion  wras  immense.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Mc 
Whorter,  of  Newark,   preached   the   funeral  sermon 


230  JAMES    CALDWELL. 

from  Ecclesiastes,  viii.  8,  and  after  the  service  was 
ended,  the  corpse  was  placed  on  a  large  stone  before 
the  door  of  the  house  of  Mrs.  Noel,  where  all  could 
take  a  view  of  the  remains  of  their  beloved  pastor. 
"When  this  affecting  ceremony  was  over,  and  before  the 
coffin  was  closed,  Dr.  Boudinot  came  forward,  leading 
nine  orphan  children,  and  placing  them  around  their 
father's  bier,  made  an  address  of  surpassing  pathos  to 
the  multitude  in  their  behalf.  It  was  an  hour  of 
deep  and  powerful  emotion,  and  the  procession  slowly 
moved  to  the  grave,  weeping  as  they  went.  And  as  they 
lifted  their  streaming  eyes  to  Heaven,  they  besought 
the  blessing  of  God  upon  the  orphan  group,  and  upon 
their  own  efforts  to  resist  and  vanquish  their  oppres- 
sors/' The  promise  of  the  orphan's  God  was  made 
good  to  them,  for  friends  came  forward  who  provided 
for  them  so  that  they  all  grew  up  respectable  and  use- 
ful, and  some  became  distinguished  members  of  society. 
Lafayette  took  the  third  child,  John  E.,  and  he  was 
educated  in  France,  under  the  direction  of  the  Mar- 
chioness. Another  became  County  Judge,  while  an- 
other still  was  for  many  years  clerk  of  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  United  States.  In  honor  of  his  efforts 
in  the  cause  of  African  colonizatijn,  a  town  in  Liberia 
is  called  "  Caldwell "  at  this  day. 

Mr  Caldwell  was  as  earnest  in  the  pulpit  as  he  was 
out  of  it.  He  seldom  preached  without  weeping  him- 
self, and  often  would  melt  his  audience  to  tears. 

"  He  was  a  man  of  unwearied  activity,  and  of  won- 
derful powers,  both  of  body  and  mental  endurance. 
Feelings  of  the  most  glowing  piety,  and  the  most  fer- 


HIS    MONUMENT.  231 

vent  patriotism  occupied  his  bosom,  at  the  same  time 
without  at  all  interfering  with  each  other.  He  was 
one  day  preaching  to  the  battalion — the  next  providing 
ways  and  means  for  their  support,  and  the  next  march- 
ing with  them  to  battle  ;  if  defeated,  assisting  to  con- 
duct their  retreat ;  if  victorious,  offering  their  united 
thanksgivings  to  God,  and  the  next  carrying  the  conso- 
lations of  the  gospel  to  some  afflicted  or  dying  par- 
ishioner/' 

The  cause  of  freedom,  and  especially  the  State  of 
New  Jersey,  owe  him  a  large  debt,  and  it  is  gratifying 
to  know  that  his  noble  deeds  have  not  been  left  to  tra- 
dition alone  for  preservation,  but  that  a  monument 
has  been  erected  to  him  in  the  burying  ground  of  the 
First  Presbyterian  church,  which  has  been  built  upon 
the  site  of  the  old  one  that  was  burned  in  1780.  On 
the  east  side  of  the  monument  is  inscribed  : — u  This 
monument  is  erected  to  the  memory  of  the  Eev.  James 
Caldwell,  the  pious  and  fervent  christian,  the  zealous 
and  faithful  minister,  the  eloquent  preacher,  and  a 
prominent  leader  among  the  worthies  who  secured  the 
independence  of  his  country.  His  name  will  be  cher- 
ished in  the  Church  and  in  the  State  so. long  as  virtue 
is  esteemed,  and  patriotism  honored/'  On  the  south 
side  : — "  James  Caldwell,  born  in  Charlotte  Co.,  Vir- 
ginia, April  17th,  1734  ;  graduated  at  Princeton  Col- 
lege, 1759  ;  ordained  pastor  of  the  First  Presbyterian 
Church,  of  Elizabethtown,  1762.  After  serving  as 
chaplain  in  the  army  of  the  revolution,  and  acting  as 
commissary  to  the  troops  in  New  Jersey,  he  was  killed 
by  a  shot  from  a  sentinel  at  Elizabethtown  Point, 


OQO 


JAMES     CALDWELL, 


November  24th,  1781. "  On  the  other  two  sides  are  in- 
scriptions to  his  wife.  One  of  them  is,  "  Hannah,  wife 
of  the  Rev.  James  Caldwell,  and  daughter  of  Jonathan 
Ogden,  of  Newark,  was  killed  at  Connecticut  Farms 
hy  a  shot  from  a  British  soldier,  June  25th,*  1780, 
cruelly  sacrificed  by  the  enemies  of  her  husband,  and 
of  her  country." 

M  The  memory  of  the  just  is  blessed." 
*  The  date  is  incorrect. 


CHAPTER     XXII. 

BEXJAMIX   TRUMBULL. 

His  Birth  and  Education. — Takes  Sidf.s  wim  tije  Colonies.— Enters  the 
Army  as  Chaplain. — Fights  in  the  Ranks. — Curious  Interview  with  Wash- 
ington.— Fights  at  WrnnrLAlNS. — Anecdote. — Fights  at  New  Haven. — Re- 
turns to  his  Parish. — Writes  the  IIistory  of  Connecticut. — llis  Death.-— 
His  Publications. 

Hebron,  Connecticut,  has  well  earned  a  prominence 
by  the  number  of  good  men  she  gave  to  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  among  them  none  rank  higher  as  patriots 
than  Mr.  Trumbull.  Born  in  this  parish  in  1735,  he 
early  fitted  for  college,  and  graduated  at  Yale  when 
twenty-four  years  of  age.  The  year  after  he  taught 
in  Dr.  Wheelock's  Indian  charity  school  at  Lebanon 
Creek,  and  at  the  same  time  studied  divinity.  The 
next  year  he  was  licensed  to  preach,  and  in  the  fol- 
lowing December  was  ordained  and  settled  at  North 
Haven. 

At  this  time  the  New  England  Colonies  began  to  be 
agitated  with  the  oppressive  acts  of  Great  Britain. 
Of  a  bold  spirit  and  sanguine  temperament,  a  bitter 
hater  of  wrong,  and  a  fearless,  ardent,  and  sometimes 
stormy  defender  of  the  right,  Trumbull  at  once  took  sides 
with  the  former.  His  ruddy,  determined  face  and  stout 
figure  typified  admirably  his  character.  He  had  the 
massive  energy  and  strength  one  would  expect  to  see 
in  a  man  of  his  vigorous  frame  and  robust  health,  and 


234  BENJAMIN      TRUMBULL. 

at  the  same  time  the  excitability  of  an  extremely 
nervous,  sensitive  person.  These  characteristics  were 
prominently  displayed  in  his  efforts  in  the  cause  of 
American  liberty.  Zealous,  enthusiastic  and  able  in 
argument,  he  brought  efficient  aid  to  the  patriots,  and 
it  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  one  who  bore  so  impor- 
tant a  part  in  the  Kevolution  in  his  native  State,  and 
afterwards  became  so  distinguished  as  its  historian, 
should  not  have  left  more  details  and  personal  inci- 
dents connected  with  his  services  in  the  army.  But 
aside  from  his  general  patriotism  and  zeal  very  little  is 
known  of  this  part  of  his  history.  It  is  evident,  how- 
ever, that  but  for  his  clerical  profession  he  would  have 
been  found  foremost  in  the  ranks  fighting  for  the  cause 
which  he  so  nobly  upheld  with  his  tongue.  As  it  was, 
he,  like  many  other  good  clergymen,  could  not  at  all 
times  be  content  with  discharging  the  duties  of  his 
profession,  but  in  the  ardor  of  his  patriotism  resorted 
to  carnal  weapons  to  defend  what  he  believed  to  be  the 
cause  of  God.  Having  battled  manfully  for  the  right 
so  long  as  the  contest  was  confined  to  discussion  and 
remonstrances,  the  moment  hostilities  commenced  he 
offered  his  services  as  chaplain  in  the  army.  In  the 
campaigns  that  followed  he  appears  only  at  intervals, 
but  the  transient  glimpses  we  do  get  of  him  deepens 
the  regret  that  we  cannot  follow  him  step  by  step  in 
his  course.  Wo  know,  however,  that  he  was  engaged 
in  most  of  the  battles  in  the  autumn  that  immediately 
followed  the  fall  of  New  York.  On  a  certain  occasion, 
having  learned,  as  he  thought,  that  one  of  the  divisions 
of  the  army  was  in  danger  of  being  cut  off,  he  hurried 


FIGHTING      ON      FOOT.  235 

to  General  Washington,  and  in  his  ardent,  excited 
manner  told  him  of  it.  The  latter  had  doubtless  re- 
ceived the  information  before,  if  it  was  true,  and 
taken  the  necessary  precautions  to  meet  the  threatened 
danger,  and  hence  listened  to  the  chaplain's  account 
without  surprise.  Looking  up  and  noticing  the  cler- 
ical garb  of  the  messenger,  and  seeing  his  intense  ex- 
citement and  anxiety,  he  said  very  pleasantly,  "  Good 
gentleman,  you  seem  to  be  very  much  frightened/' 
Mr.  Trumbull  had  evidently  taken  his  own  instead  of 
a  military  view  of  the  matter,  and  on  his  own  respon- 
sibility described  a  state  of  things  that  did  not  exist, 
and  Washington's  reply  was  meant  to  intimate  as 
much.  He,  however,  sadly  mistook  the  man  in  sup- 
losing  that  his  excitement  was  caused  by  fear — it  was 
produced  solely  by  anxiety.  Fear  wTas  not  one  of  the 
sensations  with  which  he  was  familiar.  At  the  battle 
of  Whiteplains,  which  took  place  soon  after,  he  was 
with  the  division  that  occupied  Chatterton's  Hill,  and 
aroused  by  the  shameful  flight  of  the  militia,  seized  a 
musket,  and  stepping  into  the  ranks  fought  like  a 
common  soldier.  Although  the  cannon  balls  were 
crashing  around  him,  he  loaded  and  fired  with  the 
most  imperturbable  coolness.  Gano  standing  in  front 
of  the  regiment  to  which  he  was  attached,  exposed  to  tho 
hottest  of  the  fire,  and  refusing  to  stir  lest  his  example 
might  dishearten  the  troops  unaccustomed  to  battle, 
and  Mr.  Trumbull  fighting  on  foot  among  those  with 
whom  he  had  often  prayed,  were  not  the  least  among 
the  remarkable  incidents  of  the  fiercely  contested 
action  of  Chatterton's  Hill.     When  the  division  was 


236  BENJAMIN      TRUMBULL. 

ordered  to  retreat  across  the  Bronx  and  join  the  main 
army  under  Washington,  he  found  himself  on  the 
shore  of  the  stream,  over  which  horses,  artillery  and 
men  were  hurrying  in  confusion,  at  a  point  where  the 
depth  did  not  promise  an  easy  crossing.  While  hesi- 
tating what  to  do,  he  saw  Colonel  Tallmadge  spur  his 
horse  into  the  water  close  beside  him.  The  brave 
chaplain  immediately  resolved  that  the  colonel's  horse 
should  carry  him  also  to  the  farther  bank,  and  being 
an  active  as  well  as  strong  man,  he,  with  a  vigorous 
leap,  landed  astride  the  crupper.  The  horse,  aston- 
ished at  the  summary  manner  in  which  this  new  ac- 
cession to  his  load  wras  made,  gave  a  sudden  powerful 
spring  and  cleared  himself  of  both  colonel  and  chap- 
lain, and  they  fell  into  the  water  together.  Flounder- 
ing up  from  their  cold  bath  as  quickly  as  possible,  they 
scrambled  up  the  farther  bank,  and  dripping  and  dirty 
continued  their  flight  with  the  retreating  force. 

In  July,  1799,  when  Gov.  Try  on  invaded  New 
ILiven,  he  joined  the  volunteer  company  of  one  hundred, 
who  went  out  to  retard  the  advance  of  the  enemy  till 
the  inhabitants  could  effect  their  escape  with  their 
goods.  In  the  skirmish  that  followed  he  fought  brave- 
ly, showing  an  example  of  coolness  and  courage  that 
gave  new  life  to  the  younger  volunteers*  He  was 
mounted  OH  a  horse  that  was  used  to  the  sound  of 
battle,  and  while  Others  fired  from  behind  fences  and 
trees,  he  sat  in  full  open  view  of  the  enemy,  and  loaded 
and  fired  from  the  saddle.  Whenever  the  enemy 
poured  in  an  unusual  close  and  deadly  volley  he  would 
duck  his  head  behind  his  horse's  neck  and  let  the  bul- 


HIS     DEATH.  237 

lets  whistle  by,  then,  rising  in  his  seat,  take  deliberate 
aim,  and  fire  in  return.  Mr.  Dagget,  the  reverend 
professor  of  divinity,  with  his  long  fowling-piece  on 
the  hill-top,  and  Mr.  Trumbull,  with  his  musket  in 
the  valley  below,  did  yeomen's  service  on  that  hot 
July  day. 

When  the  war  was  over  he  resumed  his  parochial 
duties. 

Distinguished  for  his  fervent  spirit,  and  plain,  fear- 
less utterance  of  truths,  he  devoted  his  best  energies 
to  the  cause  of  his  Divine  Master. 

He  was  as  remarkable  for  his  earnest  patriotism  in 
times  of  peace  as  he  had  been  in  war,  and  found  leisure 
to  write  a  history  of  Connecticut,  in  two  volumes, 
which  breathes  the  same  love  of  country  that  had 
characterized  his  whole  life. 

He  lived  to  see  his  country  again  victorious  in  the 
second  war  with  England.  In  the  winter  of  1819  and 
1820  he  was  suddenly  attacked  with  a  lung  fever,  which 
hurried  him  rapidly  to  the  grave.  When  told  that  his 
case  was  hopeless,  and  that  he  could  live  but  a  short 
time,  he  said,  "I  have  always  remembered  my  God — 
I  have  never  forgotten  Him  in  my  study,  in  my  family, 
in  my  rural  labors,  and  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  I 
doubt  not  He  will  support  me  now  in  old  age,  and  in 
death."  The  last  words  that  escaped  his  lips  were, 
"  Come  quickly,  amen.  Even  so  come,  Lord  Jesus.,, 
Thus,  at  the  advanced  age  of  eighty-five,  this  good 
man,  faithful  minister,  and  devoted  patriot,  sunk 
to  rest.  Of  his  seven  children,  two  died  in  infancy, 
four  reached  three  score  and  ten,  and  one  daughter 


238  BENJAMIN     TRUMBULL. 

ninety   years,    while    the    widow    lived    to  be  ninety- 
three. 

Besides  the  two  volumes  of  history  of  his  native 
State,  he  published  over  twenty  pamphlets  and  ser- 
mons. Among  these  was  one  on  the  right  of  Connect- 
icut to  the  large  tract  of  land  known  as  the  "  Susque- 
hannah  purchase/'  to  which  Pennsylvania  laid  claim. 
His  argument  was  so  conclusive  that  Congress  decided 
in  favor  of  the  claim  of  Connecticut.  The  product 
of  the  sales  of  this  "  purchase  "  were  appropriated  to 
a  school  fund,  which  now  amounts  to  more  than  a 
million  and  a-half  of  dollars. 


CHAPTER     XXIII. 

SAMUEL    KIRKLAXD. 

His  Birth  and  Education*.— A  Teacher  in-  Dp..  Wjihelock's  ScnooL. — Goes  a 
Missionary  to  the  Indians  of  New  York  State.— His  Labors  and  Perils. — 
IIis  Mission  broken  up  by  the  Revolution. — Employed  by  Congress  to 
kkf.p  the  Indians  from  joining  the  British. — Prevented  by  Brandt. — A 
Chaplain  in  Sullivan's  Brigade. — Accompanies  it  to  Genesee  Flats. — IIis 
Services  rewarded  by  Congress. — Settles  among  the  Oneidas  after  the 
War.— Founds  Hamilton  College. — Is  thrown  from  his  Horse. — IIis 
Death. 

Samuel  Kirkland  is  known  throughout  the  coun- 
try for  his  long  and  faithful  labors  among  the  Indians 
of  New  York  State.  Indeed,  he  is  hardly  ever  spoken 
of  except  as  a  missionary  among  these  wandering  and 
neglected  tribes — hence,  his  services  in  the  revolution 
have  never  received  especial  notice.  The  latter  were 
regarded  a  mere  episode  in  his  self-denying  life,  and 
though  they  demanded  equal  sacrifices,  exposures,  and 
hardships,  were  so  strangely  overlooked  by  the  chroni- 
clers of  the  times  that  at  this  late  day  it  is  impossible 
to  give  any  detailed  account  of  them. 

The  tenth  in  a  family  of  twelve  children,  he  was 
born  in  Norwich,  Conn.,  on  the  1st  day  of  December, 
1741.  When  twenty  years  of  age,  ho  became  a  stu- 
dent in  Dr.  Wheelock's  celebrated  school,  at  Lebanon, 
but  in  1762  entered  the  sophomore  class  in  Princeton 
College,  and  at  once  took  a  high  position  as  a  scholar, 
and  a  young  man  of  intellect.  Leaving  college  eight 
months  before  his  class  graduated,  he  went  as  a  mis- 


240  SAMUEL     KIRKLAKD. 

sionary  to  the  Scnecas,  the  most  remote,  powerful,  and 
warlike  of  the  Six  Nations.  A  mere  youth,  only  twen- 
ty-three years  of  age,  he  plunged  fearlessly  into  the 
western  wilderness  of  New  York,  and  underwent  hard- 
ships, and  encountered  dangers,  the  narrative  of  which 
at  this  day  would  read  like  a  romance.  Alone  and 
unprotected  he  wandered  for  a  year  and  a-half  among 
these  lawless  tribes,  facing  what  often  seemed  to  be 
inevitable  death,  with  a  calm  courage  that  filled  those 
wild  warriors  with  wonder.  His  escapes  sometimes 
seemed  almost  miraculous.  He  returned  in  176G, 
brinmno*  with  him  a  Seneca  chief,  who,  bein^  intro- 
duced  by  him  to  the  general  assembly,  of  Connecticut, 
at  Hartford,  was  received  with  marked  honor.  In 
June,  of  this  year,  he  was  ordained  at  Lebanon,  and 
receiving  a  general  commission  as  Indian  missionary, 
returned  to  the  Oneidas,  and  took  up  his  residence 
with  them.  He  remained  here,  prosecuting  his  self- 
denying  labors  till  the  commencement  of  the  revolu- 
tion, when  the  threatening  sound  of  the  rising  tribes 
along  our  frontier  broke  up  his  mission.  He  then 
offered  his  services  to  Congress,  and  endeavored  to 
enlist  the  Indians  of  the  State  on  the  side  of  the 
Americans,  or  at  least  induce  them  to  preserve  a  strict 
neutrality.  His  knowledge  of  their  various  dialects, 
and  the  influence  he  had  acquired  over  them,  rendered 
him  the  most  fitting  Bgetlt  to  accomplish  this  object. 
Although,  in  prosecuting  his  mission,  lie  visited  the 
various  tribes,  he  was  especially  anxious  that  the  Six 
Nations  should  not  take  up  arms  on  the  side  of  the 
British,  for  he  knew  if  they  did  our  frontiers  would  be 


ACCOMPANIES     SULLIVAN.  241 

drenched  in  blood.  To  prevent  this,  lie  made  long 
journeys,  attended  council  after  council  in  various 
places,  and  at  one  time  thought  he  should  succeed  in 
keeping  those  powerful  confederated  tribes  tranquil. 
But  the  famous  Mohawk  warrior,  Brandt,  coun- 
teracted all  his  efforts,  and  the  massacres  of  the 
Mohawk  valley,  of  Wyoming,  and  Minisink  followed, 
filling  the  State  with  mourning.  Shut  out  from  the 
field  of  his  labors,  Kirkland  entered  the  army  as  a 
chaplain,  but,  as  remarked  before,  of  his  valuable  ser- 
vices in  this  capacity  but  little  is  left  on  record,  or  has 
been  handed  down  by  tradition.  We  find  him  in  177S 
and  1779  among  the  Oneidas,  collecting  and  transmit- 
ting to  government  information  of  the  designs  and 
movements  of  the  enemy  along  Niagara  and  the  lakes, 
which  was  of  great  value,  and  which  could  be  obtained 
in  no  other  way.  His  knowledge  of  the  Indian  lan- 
guages, and  the  desire  of  friendly  Indians  to  render 
him  any  service,  gave  him  great  facilities  in  this  res- 
pect, and  he  kept  in  constant  communication  with 
those  having  the  direction  of  public  affairs.  His  long 
sojourn  in  the  wilderness,  and  his  extensive  travels  in 
that  almost  unknown  region,  gave  him  also  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  country  which  no  other  white  man  pos- 
sessed. Hence,  when  Sullivan  was  sent  with  his  brig- 
ade to  chastise  the  hostile  nations  of  the  Susquehannah 
and  the  Genesee  valleys,  he  was  solicited  to  accompany 
him  as  chaplain.  He  did  so,  and  saw  a  powerful  army 
sweep  through  the  forests  where,  so  many  years  before, 
he  passed  alone  and  unattended.  The  contrast  was  a 
painful  one.     Then,  with  the  bible  in  his  hand,  trust- 

11 


242  SAMUEL     KIRKLAND. 

ing  alone  in  the  protection  of  Heaven,  he  went  the 
messenger  of  peace,  preaching  the  gospel  of  Christ  to 
the  savages — now  he  came  with  fire  and  sword,  to 
daughter  and  lay  waste.  The  drum,  and  bugle,  and 
loud-mouthed  cannon  had  taken  the  place  of  tones  of 
kindness  and  friendship,  and  he  saw  with  an  aching 
heart  the  awful  scourge  move  resistlessly  on.  The 
peaceful  village,  smiling  in  the  summer  sun,  and  the 
waving  fields  of  corn  disappeared  as  it  passed,  while 
the  warriors,  who  gathered  in  their  defence,  were 
stretched  stark  and  stiff  amid  the  desolation.  At  last 
the  devastating  army  reached  the  Eden  of  this  wild 
region,  the  beautiful  Genesee  flats.  Twenty  miles 
long  and  four  broad,  the  cultivated  valley  spread  out 
before  them  in  all  its  richness  and  beauty.  The  tall 
grass  bent  before  the  wind — corn-field  on  corn-field  as 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  waved  in  the  sunlight — 
orchards,  that  had  been  growing  for  generations,  were 
weighed  down  under  the  profusion  of  fruit — cattle 
grazed  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  while  a  hundred  and 
twenty  houses,  not  huts,  but  large,  airy  buildings,  nes- 
tled amid  fruit  trees,  making  a  scene  of  surpassing 
1  'veliness.  Mr.  Kirkland  saw  the  army  of  five  thou- 
sand encamp  at  night  amid  this  beauty  and  luxuri- 
ance. Before  noon  the  next  day  the  smoke  of  burning 
dwellings  covered  the  valley,  and  when  it  lifted,  a  wide 
desolation  met  the  eye,  and  the  army  encamped  at 
night  in  a  desert. 

The  important  services  he  rendered  the  country  both 
before  and  during  this  campaign  have  passed  into  ob- 
livion.    We  can  only  infer  their  value  from  the  action 


AGAIN     A     MISSIONARY.  243 

of  Congress  subsequently.  That  body  voted  him  a 
liberal  grant  of  land,  specifying  that  it  was  in  consid- 
eration of  his  services  as  a  chaplain  and  other  "  impor- 
tant services  rendered  during  the  war."  The  State  of 
New  York,  the  general  government  and  Sullivan  all 
recognized  and  appreciated  them.  Thus,  in  every  de- 
partment of  the  Revolution,  the  influence  of  the  clergy 
was  felt.  In  the  provincial  legislatures,  in  the  general 
Congress  originating  and  upholding  important  meas- 
ures— in  the  remote  parishes  rousing  the  people  to 
arms — in  the  tented  field  by  example  and  precept 
teaching  the  troops  heroism,  self-denial  and  morality — 
in  the  wilderness  among  the  savage  tribes — everywhere 
where  wisdom  and  knowledge  were  required,  soldiers 
wanted  and  work  was  to  be  done,  they  were  found  per- 
forming not  a  subordinate  but  a  leading  part.  One 
cannot  look  anywhere  over  the  thirteen  States  during 
that  struggle  or  along  their  bleeding  frontiers  without 
seeing  the  clergy  standing  as  bulwarks  of  freedom  or 
toiling  single  handed  for  its  success.  Turn  which  way 
we  will  we  are  made  to  feel  that  a  history  of  American 
Independence  that  leaves  the  clergy  out,  or  only  men- 
tions them  incidentally,  is  not  only  false  in  fact,  but 
what  is  still  worse,  false  in  one  of  the  great  lessons 
God  designed  our  early  history  should  teach. 

After  the  war  Mr.  Kirkland  returned  to  his  labors 
among  the  Oneidas,  which  eventually  were  crowned 
with  great  success.  In  1791  he  made  a  census  of  the 
Six  Nations,  and  in  the  winter  of  the  same  year,  at 
the  request  of  the  Secretary  of  War,  took  forty  chiefs 
and  warriors — representatives  of  the  Five  Nations — to 


244  SAMUEL   KIRKLAND, 

Philadelphia,  for  the  purpose  of  consulting  in  reference 
to  the  introduction  of  civilization  among  them,  and  of 
effecting  a  permanent  treaty  of  peace  between  them 
and  the  United  States.  In  both  of  these  objects  he 
was  successful,  and  then  returned  to  his  missionary- 
labors  among  the  Oneidas,  where  he  built  him  a  log 
hut  into  which  he  removed  his  family.  He  soon  after 
established  an  academy  at  Hamilton,  which  continued 
to  flourish  until  1810,  when  it  was  elevated  to  the  rank 
of  a  college,  that  still  remains  a  monument  of  his 
labors  in  the  cause  of  education.  In  1796  he  was 
thrown  from  his  horse  and  seriously  injured.  Ho 
never  recovered  entirely  from  the  shock  he  received  in 
this  accident,  and  remained  more  or  less  an  invalid  till 
1808,  when  he  was  struck  with  paralysis,  which  carried 
him  off  suddenly  and  without  his  being  conscious  ap- 
parently of  his  approaching  end.  Brought  into  con- 
tact with  the  most  prominent  men  of  the  country,  he 
was  widely  known  and  died  universally  lamented. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

JAMES    HALL. 

IIis  Bip.tit  and  Education. — Settled  int  North  Carolina. — Houses  itis  Feoplk 
to  oppose  the  Mother  Country. — Is  made  Captain  of  a  Company  of  Cav- 
alry.— Acts  also  as  Chaplain. — Marches  to  South  Carolina.— Offep.ed  the 
Commission  of  Brigadier  General  by  Greene. — Declines.— His  After 
Life. 

James  Hall  was  born  in  Carlisle,  Pennsylvania, 
August  22d,  1744.  When  he  was  eight  years  of  age 
his  parents  removed  to  North  Carolina  and  settled  in 
a  district  now  known  as  Iredell  county.  At  the  age 
of  twenty  he  made  a  public  profession  of  religion,  and 
soon  after  turned  his  attention  to  the  ministry,  but  did 
not  enter  college  till  1774,  or  in  his  thirty-first  year. 
Being  a  fine  mathematician,  Dr.  Witherspoon  wished 
to  retain  him  as  tutor  in  the  collge,  but  he  said  he  had 
devoted  himself  to  the  ministry  and  did  not  feel  at 
liberty  to  make  any  engagements  that  would  divert 
him  from  it.  He  therefore  entered  immediately  on  his 
theological  studies  under  Dr.  Witherspoon,  and  in  less 
than  two  years  was  licensed  to  preach.  In  1778  he 
was  settled  over  the  united  congregations  of  Fourth 
Creek,  Concord  and  Bethany,  and  remained  their 
pastor  till  1790. 

Previous  to  this  he  had  become  deeply  enlisted  in  the 
cause  of  the  Colonies,  and  declined  no  service,  no 
matter   how   great  the  sacrifice  it   demanded,  which 


246  JAMES     HALL. 

could  in  any  way  benefit  Lis  country.  He  did  not 
confine  his  efforts  to  the  pulpit,  but  took  the  lead  in 
all  public  meetings  held  to  discuss  the  political  topics 
of  the  day.  He  denounced  toryism  unsparingly,  and 
on  every  occasion  when  he  could  get  a  hearing  made 
eloquent  and  earnest  appeals  in  behalf  of  freedom. 
The  claims  of  one's  country  he  declared  were  next  to 
those  of  God,  and  could  not  be  treated  with  neglect 
without  sacrificing  every  principle  of  honor  and  of 
duty.  He  was  not  one  of  those  timorous  patriots  who 
are  zealous  for  their  country  when  not  called  upon  to 
encounter  personal  danger,  but  arc  silent  when  the 
thunder  of  cannon  is  near.  While  the  conflict  was 
raging  in  the  northern  provinces,  his  sympathy  and 
interest  found  expression  in  prayers,  exhortations  and 
public  addresses,  but  the  moment  the  sound  of  battle 
was  heard  on  the  borders  of  his  own  State  that  sym- 
pathy showed  itself  in  action.  Cornwallis,  in  his 
victorious  march  through  South  Carolina,  sent  out 
detachments  in  various  directions  to  scour  the  country, 
whose  barbarous  conduct  filled  every  bosom  with  in- 
dignation. Mr.  Hall  at  once  called  together  his  flock, 
and  after  relating  some  of  the  bloody  acts  that  had  been 
committed  by  the  invaders,  besought  them,  in  the  name 
of  their  distracted  country,  and  for  the  sake  of  their 
friends  and  neighbors  who  were  hewn  down  by  their 
merciless  iocs,  to  take  up  arms  in  their  defence.  Tears 
rolled  down  the  cheeks  of  those  sturdy  frontiersmen 
at  the  thrilling  appeal,  and  catching  the  enthusiasm 
of  their  pastor  they  immediately  organized  a  body  of 
cavalry  to  go  to  the  assistance  of  their  fellow-country- 


CAPTAIN     AND     CHAPLAIN.  247 

men  in  South  Carolina.  When  the  inquiry  was  made 
who  should  be  selected  as  captain,  they  declared 
with  one  voice  for  Parson  Hall.  He  accepted  the 
appointment  without  a  moment's  hesitation  and  with 
his  sword  buckled  to  his  side  and  the  Bible  in  his 
pocket  put  himself  at  their  head.  He  had,  however, 
no  intention  of  sinking  his  profession  in  his  military 
command — he  believed  he  was  equally  doing  God's 
service  whether  fighting  or  praying,  and  he  therefore 
installed  himself  their  chaplain,  and  fulfilled  the  duties 
of  this  office  as  faithfully  as  those  of  captain.  On 
their  way  to  South  Carolina  he  prayed  with  them  reg- 
ularly, and  on  the  Sabbath  preached  to  them.  In  fact 
they  were  a  part  of  his  usual  audience  at  home,  for 
they  were  almost  to  a  man  members  of  one  of  his  con- 
gregations. It  reminded  one  of  the  times  of  Cromwell 
to  see  this  man  of  God  assemble  his  company  of  irreg- 
ular cavalry,  and  with  head  uncovered  solemnly  com- 
mend them  and  their  cause  to  God,  and  then  ride  to 
their  head  and  give  the  order  to  march.  To  these 
simple  minded,  brave  men  there  was  nothing  incon- 
gruous in  this.  They  had  received  their  lessons  in 
patriotism  from  their  pastor — been  taught  by  him  to 
regard  resistance  to  the  tyrannical  oppressions  of  the 
mother  country  obedience  to  God,  and  urged  by  him  to 
the  present  undertaking,  and  it  seemed  peculiarly  fit  that 
he  should  be  both  their  leader  and  spiritual  teacher. 

He  was  absent  in  this  expedition  for  several  months, 
sharing  the  hardships  and  privations  of  his  soldiers 
throughout,  and  ever  retaining  their  confidence  and 
love   by  his  cool  courage,  Christian  forbearance,  and 


248  JAMES    HALL. 

faithfulness.  Subsequently,  an  army  was  sent  against 
the  Cherokees,  in  Georgia,  and  he  accompanied  it  as 
chaplain.  In  the  long  and  tedious  march  through  the 
wilderness,  which  occupied  two  months,  he  found  hut 
one  opportunity  to  preach  to  the  troops.  The  sermon 
he  delivered  on  this  occasion,  being  the  first  ever 
preached  in  the  Indian  territory,  the  adjacent  county, 
in  honor  of  the  event,  was  named  after  him,  Hall 
county.  His  influence  and  abilities  were  so  well  known 
that  after  the  death  of  Gen.  Davidson,  in  the  skirmish 
of  Cowansford,  on  the  Catawba,  Gen.  Greene,  then 
commanding  in  the  Carolinas,  selected  him  to  fill  his 
place,  and  the  commission  of  Brigadier-General  was 
offered  him.  He  declined  the  appointment,  however, 
saying,  that  there  were  others  who  could  fill  that  post 
quite  as  well  as  himself,  while  he  preached  the  gospel. 
Leading  his  little  flock,  whom  he  had  urged  to  take 
up  arms  to  assist  their  neighbors  in  driving  back  the 
enemy,  who  were  wasting  them  with  fire  and  sword, 
he  regarded  a  very  different  thing  from  changing  his 
profession,  and  devoting  himself  to  a  military  life. 
The  former  was  a  duty  forced  on  him  by  circumstan- 
ces, the  latter  was  not,  and  appeared  to  him  more 
a  matter  of  choice  as  to  what  profession  he  should 
follow. 

At  the  close  of  the  war  he  found  religion  in  his 
vicinity  in  a  low  condition,  and  with  his  accustomed 
zeal  commenced  to  "  repair  the  waste  places  of  Zion." 
A  powerful  revival  followed  his  exertions,  and  many 
were  gathered  into  the  Church.  He  gave  himself  no 
rest  in  the  work  so  dear  to  his  heart,  and  his  health  at 


MISSIONARY     LABORS.  249 

length  broke  down  under  his  severe  labors.  Unable 
to  rally,  he  was  after  much  persuasion,  induced  to  try 
the  effects  of  a  sea  voyage  to  restore  it,  and  embarked 
at  Charleston  for  Philadelphia.  In  1793  he  under- 
took a  missionary  tour  along  the  western  frontier  under 
a  commission  of  Synod,  which  involved  great  hard- 
ships. In  1800,  with  two  others,  he  commenced  a 
mission  at  Natchez,  the  first  missionary  effort  made 
in  the  lower  valley  of  the  Mississippi.  His  labors  in 
the  cause  of  education  were  of  incalculable  benefit  to 
the  South,  and  many  distinguished  statesmen  and 
divines  were  indebted  to  him  for  their  literary  train- 
ing. He  died  on  the  25th  of  July,  1826,  in  the 
eightieth  year  of  his  age. 

11* 


CHAPTER     XXV. 

JOHN  GAXO. 

The  Baptists  or  Virginia.— Gang's  early  Life.— Visits  the  SorTn  axt> 
Preaches. — Arraigned  for  it,  rut  is  Acquitted  and  Licensed. — Anecdotes 
of  his  Coolness  and  Courage. — Settled  in  North  Carolina. — Offered  a 
Captain's  Commission  in  the  Army  against  the  GHUQUa  —  I>e<  lis 
Returns  North. — Finally  Settles  in  New  York. — His  Congregation 
broken  ui*. — Joins  the  Army  as  Chaplain. — Under  Fire  at  White  Plains. — 
At  Trenton.— Chaplain  under  Clinton  at  Fout  Montgomery.— TIis  Des- 
cription OF  THE  TAKING  OF  THE  FORT. — WlTIl  CLINTONS    BbXOADI  AT    Al.RANY. 

— Its  Chaplain  in  the  Expedition  against  the  Indians. —  Anecdotes  of 
him  in  this  Campaign. — Sermon  on  the  Fourth  of  July. — II  is  Faithfulness. 
— Goes  South  "with  the  Army  advancing  against  Cornwallis. — Returns  to 
his  Church  at  the  Close  of  the  War. — Removes  to  Kentucky. — His  Death. 

The  Baptists,  though  not  so  imposing  a  denomina- 
tion in  numbers  at  the  time  of  the  revolution  as  now, 
nevertheless  threw  the  weight  of  their  influence,  what- 
ever it  might  be,  on  the  side  of  the  colonies.  Thus, 
in  1775,  we  find  them  in  Virginia,  presenting  as  a 
body,  an  address  to  the  convention,  in  which  they  say, 
"  that  however  distinguished  from  the  body  of  their 
countrymen  by  appellation,  and  sentiments  of  a  relig- 
ious nature,  they,  nevertheless,  consider  themselvi  s  as 
members  of  the  same  community  in  respect  to  matters 
of  a  civil  nature,  and  embarked  in  the  same  common 
cause  ;  that,  alarmed  at  the  oppression  which  hangs 
over  America,  they  had  considered  what  part  it  would 
be  proper  to  take  in  the  unhappy  contest,  and  had 
determined  that  they  ought  to  make  a  military  resis- 
tance against    Great  Britain  in  her  unjust  invasion, 


GANO'S    YOUTH.  251 

tyrannical  oppression,  and  repeated  hostilities,"  and  left 
their  church  members  to  enlist,  and  asked  that  four 
of  their  ministers,  whom  they  had  selected,  might  be 
allowed  to  preach  to  the  troops  during  the  campaign 
with  the  same  freedom  as  chaplains  of  the  established 
Church. 

The  most  distinguished  clergyman  of  this  denomina- 
tion who  served  during  the  revolutionary  war,  was  Rev. 
John  Gano,  a  native  of  Hopewell,  New  Jersey.  Be- 
coming religious  in  his  early  youth,  he  felt  it  at  times 
to  be  his  duty  to  study  for  the  ministry,  but  so  many 
obstacles  stood  in  the  way  that  he  endeavored  to  drive 
the  subject  from  his  mind.  But  being  unable  to  do  so, 
he  finally  yielded  to  what  he  felt  to  be  the  Divine 
promptings,  and  entered  on  his  studies.  These,  how- 
ever, were  somewhat  desultory,  and  at  the  end  of  two 
or  three  years  he  took  a  journey  to  Virginia  with  two 
distinguished  clergymen,  who  had  been  appointed  by 
the  Philadelphia  Association  to  settle  some  difficulties 
existing  in  some  feeble  churches  there.  Traveling 
through  a  sparsely  settled  country,  and  where  the 
gospel  was  seldom  heard,  he  found  himself  so  pressed 
to  preach  that  he  finally  consented.  For  this  irregular 
conduct  he  was  called  to  account  when  he  returned  to 
Hopewell  by  the  Baptist  church  there,  of  which  he  was 
a  member.  He  however,  expressed  no  regrets  for  his 
course,  declaring  "  that  he  had  no  disposition  to  repent 
having  sounded  the  gospel  to  perishing  sinners  in  Vir- 
ginia, whose  importunities  to  hear  it  he  could  not 
resist."  It  ended  in  the  Church  setting  him  apart  to 
preach. 


2  J'2  JOHN    G  A  N  O  . 

Mr.  Gano  was  a  little  under  the  medium  height, 
with  a  slender,  but  firmly  knit  frame.  His  counten- 
ance was  open  and  frank,  and  its  clear  outlook  indica- 
tod  the  self-collected,  fearless  spirit  that  characterized 
him. 

In  this  southern  journey  through  a  comparative 
wilderness  he  often  found  himself  in  circumstances 
that  called  for  all  his  presence  of  mind  and  nerve. 
One  evening  he  and  Mr.  Miller,  his  companion,  put 
up  at  a  tavern  where  a  noisy,  profane  company  had 
assembled.  At  his  request  the  landlord  put  them  in  a 
room  remote  as  possible  from  the  drinking,  swearing 
frontiersmen,  and  then  stepped  into  the  apartment  of 
the  latter  and  asked  them  not  to  disturb  the  travelers 
who  had  just  arrived.  They  were  just  drunk  enough 
to  have  this  reasonable  request  appear  to  them  a  gross 
insult,  and  starting  up  in  indignation  they  rushed  in  a 
body  to  the  room,  where  young  Gano  and  Mr.  Miller 
were  sitting,  and  with  loud  oaths  demanded  who  they 
were.  Gano,  only  twentyrseven  years  old,  calmly  re- 
plied, "  We  are  civil  travelers,  who  wish  neither  to 
disturb  you  nor  be  disturbed  by  you."  The  man  who 
acted  as  leader  immediately  advanced  towards  him  in 
a  threatening  manner,  and  shaking  his  fist  in  his  face, 
exclaimed,  writh  an  oath,  pointing  to  one  of  his  burly 
comrades,  "  There  is  a  man  who  can  whip  you  or  any- 
body else  in  the  room."  Soung  Gano  turned  his  quiet 
glance  on  the  bully  thus  pointed  out  and  replied, 
"Very  probably,  sir,  for  he  looks  much  more  like  a 
man  than  you  act,  and  I  daresay  that  he  and  the  rest 
of  his  companions  arc  ashamed  of  you  and  your  con- 


NIGHT     ADVENTURE.  253 

duct/'  The  ruffian  was  completely  cowed  by  the  cool 
manner  and  calm  superiority  of  the  young  stranger, 
and  before  he  could  recover  his  self-possession  Gano 
turned  to  the  landlord,  who  had  just  entered,  and  in 
that  quiet  tone  of  command  which  men  obey  without 
knowing  why,  said,  "  Put  that  fellow  out  of  the  room!1' 
He  did  so  without  the  others  offering  the  least  interfer- 
ence. Gano  then  turned  to  them  and  remarked  in  his 
quiet,  grave  manner,  that  their  companion  who  had  just 
been  turned  out  of  the  room  was  a  striking  instance  of 
the  depravity  of  human  nature.  He  then  went  on  to  say 
that  God  never  designed  us  to  make  others  unhappy, 
but  to  benefit  and  help  each  other, — making  them 
a  short  but  serious  speech.  They  heard  him  out 
in  silence,  then  shook  hands  with  him  in  a  friendly 
manner,  and  wished  him  a  good  journey. 

On  another  occasion,  when  just  as  he  was  about  en- 
tering alone  and  in  the  night  time  a  long  piece  of  woods, 
he  was  overtaken  by  a  rough-looking  man,  who  insisted 
on  accompanying  him,  although  he  told  him  he  did  not 
wish  his  society,  seeing  from  the  fellow's  bearing  and 
manner  that  his  intentions  were  evil.  Finding  that  he 
could  not  shake  him  off  he  rode  quietly  on.  When  he 
entered  the  woods  and  it  became  so  dark  that  he  could 
not  see  his  brigand  companion,  he  urged  his  horse  up 
beside  him,  and  placing  his  hand  on  his  leg  so  as  to  detect 
the  least  hostile  motion,  held  it  there  till  he  came  to  a 
clearing.  Riding  up  to  the  log  hut  in  it  he  roused  the 
inmate,  who  demanded  as  he  came  to  the  door  what  lie 
wanted.  Pointing  to  the  stranger  who  had  forced  himself 
on  his  company,  he  exclaimed,  " Seize  that  man!"    The 


254  JOHN      G  A  N  0  . 

latter  alarmed,  immediately  gave  his  horse  the  whip  and 
disappeared  in  the  darkness.  The  cool  determination 
and  seli-pi  ssession  of  Gano  evinced  by  his  deliberately 
riding  to  the  robber's  side  in  the  darkness  and  laying  his 
hand  upon  his  thigh  so  astounded  and  overawed  him  that 
he  dared  not  make  his  intended  attack.  It  was  moral 
power  that  subdued  him — a  superior  soul,  superior  in 
courage,  resolution  and  in  conscious  resources,  before 
which  his  brutal  spirit  quailed. 

These  incidents  are  mentioned  to  show  the  metal  of 
the  man,  who,  like  Paul,  was  fitted  by  nature  to  be  a 
great  military  commander,  but  became  by  grace  a 
great  leader  in  the  Church. 

Soon  after  his  ordination  he  was  sent  back  to  Vir- 
ginia as  a  missionary,  and  labored  for  several  years 
amid  the  frontier  settlements  South.  Many  anecdotes 
are  told  of  him  while  successfully  prosecuting  his 
labors  here,  illustrating  both  his  natural  sagacity,  and 
elevated  piety. 

In  1758  he  was  settled  over  a  church  in  North  Car- 
olina, which  he  afterwards  left  on  account  of  the  war 
which  had  broken  out  with  the  Cherokces.  The  Gov- 
ernor sent  him  a  captain's  commission  in  the  army, 
but  he  declined  to  act  under  it,  and  returned  to  New 
Jersey.  He  afterwards  went  to  Philadelphia,  but 
staid  only  a  part  of  the  year,  then  settled  down  in 
New  York  city,  where  he  built  up  a  flourishing  church 
and  congregation,  with  whom  he  remained  till  the 
arrival  of  the  British  troops,  which  dispersed  them 
over  the  country.  Having  removed  his  family  to 
Connecticut,  he  returned  to  the  city,  determined  to 


UNDER     FIRE.  255 

stay  there  till  the  enemy  entered  it.  Col.  Webb's 
regiment  being  at  Stamford  at  that  time,  he  was  in- 
vited by  him  to  become  its  chaplain.  He  declined, 
but  accepted  an  invitation  to  come  out  to  them  and 
preach  once  every  Sabbath. 

The  simultaneous  passage  of  the  enemy's  ships  up 
the  North  and  East  rivers  after  the  battle  of  Long 
Island,  and  the  retreat  of  Washington,  gave  him  no  time 
to  remove  his  household  furniture,  and  leaving  every- 
thing behind,  he  mounted  his  horse  and  set  out  for  the 
American  camp.  He  was  with  the  army  in  the 
skirmishes  at  Harlem — retreated  with  it  to  Kings 
bridge,  and  thence  to  White  Plains.  In  the  fierce 
conflict  on  Chatterton's  hill  he  was  continually  under 
fire,  and  his  cool  and  quiet  courage  in  thus  fearlessly 
exposing  himself  was  afterwards  commented  on  in  the 
most  glowing  terms  by  the  officers  who  stood  near  him. 
He  himself  in  speaking  of  it  said,  "  My  station  in 
time  of  action  I  knew  to  be  among  the  surgeons  ;  but 
in  this  battle  I  somehow  got  in  front  of  the  regiment, 
yet  I  durst  not  quit  my  place  for  fear  of  dampening 
the  spirits  of  the  soldiers,  or  of  bringing  on  me  an 
imputation  of  cowardice.  Rather  than  do  either,  I 
chose  to  risk  my  fate/1  One  can  not  repress  a  smile 
at  this  naive  account  of  himself  in  the  front  of  battle. 
When  a  soldier,  whose  appropriate  place  is  there,  finds 
himself  in  the  rear,  we  sometimes  hear  some  such  lame 
excuse  as  u  that  somehow  he  got  there/'  but  for  one 
to  use  it  for  being  under  the  enemy's  fire  when  his 
appointed  place  is  elsewhere,  is  both  novel  and  amus- 
ing.    If  the  brave,  heroic  chaplain  had  analyzed  his 


2 jG  JOHN     CJ  AN'O. 

feelings  a  little  closer,  he  would  have  found  that  the 
reasons  given  for  staying  under  fire  were  really  the 
ones  that  brought  him  under  it — the  impulses  of  his 
noble,  patriotic  nature.  He  saw  around  him  on  every 
side  cowardice  and  fear  ;  and  carried  away  by  his  own 
heroic  impulses,  he  involuntarily  sought  the  dangers 
that  he  could  not  bear  to  see  his  countrymen  so  afraid 
to  meet.  To  one  acquainted  with  the  perfectly  fear- 
less and  chivalrous  character  of  the  man,  and  at  the 
same  time  familiar  with  the  details  of  this  battle,  it 
is  the  easiest  tiling  in  the  world  to  understand  how  he 
came  into  the  exposed  position  in  which  he  so  unac- 
countably found  himself. 

McDougall,  with  fifteen  hundred  men,  assisted  by 
Alexander  Hamilton,  attempted  to  defend  the  hill, 
while  the  main  army  lay  farther  back  behind  the  little 
stream  called  Bronx  river.  On  the  29th  of  October 
Howe  moved  across  the  country  with  his  heavy  col- 
umns, and  instead  of  assaulting  Washington  at  once, 
stopped  to  carry  Chatterton's  Hill.  As  soon  as  he  got 
his  twelve  or  fifteen  pieces  of  artillery  within  range  he 
opened  on  the  American  lines.  The  heavy  thunder 
rolling  over  the  heights  carried  consternation  into  the 
ranks  of  the  militia,  and  as  a  round  shot  struck  one  of 
their  number,  mangling  him  frightfully,  the  whole 
turned  and  fled.  Colonel  Ilazlet  tried  in  vain  to  in- 
duce them  to  drag  forward  the  field  pieces  so  as  to 
sweep  the  ascending  columns,  but  he  was  able  to  man 
only  one,  and  that  so  poorly  that  he  was  compelled  to 
seize  the  drag  ropes  himself.  But  he  was  denied  the 
gratification  of  using  even  this  one  gun,  for  as  it  was 


IN     FRONT     OF     THE     REGIMENT.        257 

being  slowly  trundled  to  the  front  a  ball  from  the  en- 
emy's batteries  struck  the  carriage,  scattering  the  shot  in 
every  direction,  and  setting  fire  to  a  wad  of  tow.  In  an 
instant  the  piece  was  abandoned  in  terror.  Only  one 
man  had  the  courage  to  remain  and  tread  out  the  fire 
and  collect  the  shot.  Hamilton,  however,  with  two 
guns  in  battery,  coolly  swept  the  slope  carrying  away 
whole  platoons  at  every  discharge.  But  after  a  little 
time  McDougall  found  only  six  hundred  of  the  fifteen 
hundred  with  which  he  commenced  the  fight,  left  to 
sustain  the  shock  of  the  whole  British  army.  This  he 
did  gallantly  for  a  whole  hour,  then  retreated  slowly 
and  in  good  order,  taking  all  his  artillery  and  baggage 
with  him,  and  crossing  the  Bronx  joined  the  main 
army.  It  was  on  such  a  sight  as  this  the  fearless 
chaplain  gazed  with  a  bursting  heart.  As  he  saw  more 
than  half  the  army  fleeing  from  the  sound  of  cannon — 
others  abandoning  their  pieces  without  firing  a  shot, 
and  a  brave  band  of  only  six  hundred  manfully  sus- 
taining the  whole  conflict,  he  forgot  himself,  and  dis- 
tressed at  the  cowardice  of  his  countrymen,  and  filled 
with  chivalrous  and  patriotic  sympathy  for  the  little 
band  that  scorned  to  fly,  he  could  not  resist  the  strong 
desire  to  share  their  perils,  and  eagerly  yet  involun- 
tarily pushed  forward  to  the  front.  This  is  the  true 
explanation  of  the  "  somehow"  he  got  out  of  his  place 
in  the  rear,  and  "  found  himself  in  front  of  the  regi- 
ment/' just  as  it  is  the  reason  that  he  would  not  retire 
though  cannon  balls  were  crashing  around  him.  A 
truly  brave  man  can  never  refrain  from  stepping  to 
the  side  of  brave  men  when,  overpowered  by  numbers, 


258  JOHN     GANO. 

they  still  make  a  gallant  and  desperate  stand  for  the 
rig-ht. 

He  accompanied  the  army  in  its  retreat  to  North 
Castle,  where  it  encamped  near  a  meeting-house,  which 
was  turned  into  a  hospital  for  the  sick  and  Wounded* 
Supposing  the  army  would  remain  here  for  some 
time  he  obtained  a  furlough  for  a  few  days  to  visit  his 
family.  When  he  returned,  instead  of  encountering 
pickets  and  sentries  and  a  bustling  encampment,  ho 
found  the  place  deserted  and  silent.  Every  thing  had 
changed  like  a  dream  of  the  night,  and  he  rode  slowly 
forward  towards  the  meeting-house,  but  around  it  there 
was  not  the  sign  of  a  living  thing.  Dismounting  at 
the  door  he  opened  it  and  passed  up  the  empty  aisle. 
The  groups  of  sufferers  he  had  prayed  with  there  were 
all  gone.  Pausing  for  a  moment  to  contemplate  the 
changed  scene  he  heard  a  slight  noise,  and  going  in 
the  direction  from  whence  it  proceeded  found  one  poor 
wounded  soldier  all  alone  in  a  pew  with  a  bottle  of 
water  by  his  side. 

Ascertaining  that  the  regiment  to  which  he  belonged 
was  with  General  Lee,  he  hastened  forward  to  join  it. 
The  orders  had  already  been  received  by  this  officer  to 
effect  a  speedy  junction  with  the  main  army  concen- 
trated on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware.  Delaying  to 
obey  them  as  long  as  he  dared,  he  at  length  set  out,  but 
was  captured  in  Baakingbridga  Gano  then  accompa- 
nied the  division  which  marched  rapidly  forward  to  join 
Washington.  lie  crossed  the  wintry  Delaware  with 
the  army  when  it  made  its  fearful  midnight  march  on 


CHAPLAIN  AT  FORT  MONTGOMERY.   259 

Trenton,  and  shared  in  the  dangers  of  the  battle  that 
followed. 

Soon  after  this  engagement  the  time  of  the  troops  to 
which  Gano  belonged  expired,  but  Washington  urged 
them  to  remain  six  weeks  longer,  until  reinforcements 
which  he  expected  should  arrive,  offering  them  ten 
dollars  bounty,  though  he  did  not  know  where  the 
money  was  to  come  from.  They  responded  to  his 
urgent  appeal,  and  Robert  Morris,  that  noble  patriot, 
on  receiving  a  letter  from  Washington  stating  what  he 

o  o  o 

had  done,  immediately  borrowed  fifty  thousand  dollars 
on  his  own  credit  and  forwarded  it  to  him,  telling  him 
to  call  on  him  aimin  when  ho  wanted  more. 

o 

At  the  expiration  of  the  six  weeks  the  troops  were 
discharged.  The  officers,  however,  determined  to  raise 
another  regiment,  and  having  seen  the  value  of  Gano's 
services  came  to  him,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  join 
them  as  chaplain  if  they  succeeded  in  their  efforts. 
He  said  he  would,  but  on  his  arrival  at  home  he  found 
a  letter  awaiting  him  from  Colonel  Dubosque,  stationed 
at  Fort  Montgomery,  just  below  West  Point,  asking 
him  to  accept  the  post  of  chaplain  to  his  regiment. 
Instead  of  writing  his  refusal  he  determined  to  ride 
across  the  country  and  see  the  colonel,  and  deliver  it  in 
person.  On  his  arrival,'  however,  General  James  Clin- 
ton, the  commander-in-chief,  who  had  heard  of  him, 
joined  his  solicitations  to  those  of  Colonel  Dubosque, 
and  urged  him  so  warmly  to  remain  that  he  finally 
consented,  and  entered  at  once  on  the  discharge  of  his 
duties. 

The  two  forts,  Montgomery  and  Clinton,  situated 


2G0  JOHN     G  A  N  O  . 

near  West  Point,  were  considered  the  key  of  the 
Hudson,  yet  in  1777,  when  Burgoyne  was  pushing  his 
victorious  columns  on  towards  Albany,  and  it  was 
Well  known  that  Henry  Clinton  at  New  York  would 
make  a  desperate  effort  to  effect  a  junction  with  him, 
they  were  garrisoned  with  only  six  or  seven  hundred 
men.  Clinton,  aware  of  their  feebleness,  determined 
to  capture  them,  and  embarking  between  three  and  four 
thousand  men  advanced  up  the  Hudson,  and  landed 
at  Verplanck's  Point  to  convey  the  impression  that  his 
object  was  to  attack  Putnam,  stationed  at  Peekskill. 
But  soon  as  it  was  dark  he  reimbarked  the  troops,  and 
concealed  by  a  dense  fog  crossed  the  river  and  landing 
at  Stony  Point,  at  daybreak  entered  the  defiles  that 
led  to  the  forts.  Now  hanging  along  the  sides  of  the 
mountain  and  now  plunging  into  deep  ravines  he  toiled 
on  all  day,  and,  driving  before  him  the  various  detach- 
ments sent  out  to  arrest  his  progress,  arrived  two  hours 
before  sunset  in  front  of  the  works. 

The  mountain  sides,  and  the  thick  forest  at  their 
base,  had  all  the  afternoon  rung  with  the  sound  of 
drum  and  bugle,  and  volleys  of  musketry  marking 
both  the  lines  of  progress,  and  the  rapidity  of  the 
advance  of  the  hostile  columns,  and  now,  as  they  drew 
near,  Gano,  with  his  accustomed  indifference  to  danger, 
walked  the  breastworks,  viewing  their  approach  till 
the  whole  open  space  around  the  Fort  was  red  with  the 
Bcarlet  uniforms.  The  British  immediately  commen- 
ced a  general  fire,  and  he,  finding  the  musket  balls 
flying  rather  too  thickly  around  him,  descended  into 
the  Fort.     In  speaking  of  it  afterwards  he  said,  "  I 


ATTACK  ON  FORT  MONTGOMERY.   261 

observed  the  enemy  marching  up  a  little  hollow  that 
they  might  be  secured  from  our  firing  till  they  came 
within  eighty  yards  of  us.  Our  breast-work  immedi- 
diately  before  them  was  not  more  than  waist-bind 
high,  and  we  had  but  few  men.  The  enemy  kept  up 
a  heavy  firing  till  our  men  gave  them  a  well-directed 
fire,  which  affected  them  very  sensibly.  Just  at  this 
time  we  had  a  reinforcement  from  a  redoubt  next  to 
us,  wdiich  obliged  the  enemy  to  withdraw.  I  walked 
to  an  eminence  where  I  had  a  good  prospect,  and  saw 
the  enemy  advancing  toward  our  gate."  It  "  some- 
how "  always  happened  that  Gano  forgot  in  time  of 
action  "  his  place  among  the  surgeons,"  and  was  where 
he  could  see  how  the  battle  was  going.  This  "  advance 
toward  the  gate"  was  observed  by  Capt.  Moody  in 
Fort  Clinton,  who,  "  seeing  our  desperate  situation, 
gave  the  enemy  a  charge  of  grape  shot,  which  threw 
them  into  great  confusion.  Moody  repeated  his  charge, 
which  entirely  dispersed  them  for  that  time."  At 
sunset  a  couple  of  flags  were  sent  demanding  the  im- 
mediate surrender  of  the  Fort,  and  threatening  in  case 
of  refusal  to  put  the  garrison  to  the  sword.  The  two 
brothers,  Clintons,  commanding  in  the  two  Forts,  sent 
the  same  answer  to  the  summons,  viz.,  that  they  chose 
the  latter  alternative.  On  the  return  of  the  flags  the 
firing  recommenced,  and  for  two  hours  it  flamed  and 
thundered  there  in  the  darkness,  and  then  came  the 
final  assault.  The  drums  beat  a  hurried  charge,  and  the 
overwhelming  mass  of  the  enemy  poured  in  one  wild 
torrent  over  the  feeble  defences,  and  by  mere  weight  of 
numbers  crushed  down  the  little  handful  that  had  stood 


262  joiin  gano. 

so  bravely  at  bay.  Gano  was  in  the  midst  of  the  melee, 
and  with  the  rest,  when  driven  back,  leaped  over  the 
breast-work  in  the  darkness  and  plunged  down  the 
cliffs  to  the  river.  "  Many/'  he  Bays,  "  escaped  to  the 
water's  side  and  got  on  board  a  scow  and  pushed  off. 
Before  she  had  got  twice  her  length  we  grappled  one 
of  our  row  galleys  into  which  we  all  got,  and  crossed 
the  river."  The  fugitives  then  made  their  toilsome 
way  to  New  Windsor,  where  they  arrived  several  days 
after.  Here  they  were  joined  by  others  who  had  es- 
caped. On  looking  over  their  returns  they  found,  he 
says,  that  "  we  had  lost,  killed,  and  taken  prisoners 
about  three  hundred  men.  The  enemy,  as  we  after- 
wards understood,  had  one  thousand  or  eleven  hundred 
killed,  among  whom  were  eighteen  captains,  and  one 
or  two  field  officers,  besides  a  great  number  wounded. ' 

Obtaining  a  furlough  for  a  short  absence,  he  now 
returned  to  his  family  at  New  Fairfield,  but  tarried 
only  till  the  birth  of  a  daughter  relieved  his  solicitude 
respecting  his  wife,  when  he  again  started  for  the  army. 

At  the  opening  of  the  next  campaign,  Gen.  Clinton's 
brigade,  consisting  of  four  regiments,  had  not  a  chap- 
lain in  it,  and  he  earnestly  urged  Gano  to  accept  the 
post.  lie  consented,  and  soon  after  received  his  com- 
mission from  Congress.  During  this  summer  the  brig- 
ade was  not  engaged  in  active  service,  and  Mr.  Gano's 
duties  assumed  the  quiet  character  of  those  of  a  pastor 
among  his  pcoj)le.  At  the  close  of  the  campaign  it 
was  ordered  to  take  winter  quarters  at  Albany.  A 
large  portion  of  the  troops  encamped  at  Canajoharie, 
and  they  sent  a  request  to  Clinton  that  he  would  let 


EXPEDITION    AGAINST    INDIANS.        263 

the  chaplain  come  and  spend  some  time  with  them, 
and  preach  to  them.  He  consented  and  Mr.  Gano 
went  over  to  the  camp.  On  his  arrival  they  asked 
him  to  preach  a  little  more  about  politics  than  he 
commonly  did.  He  took  for  his  text  the  words  of 
Moses  to  his  father-in-law.  "  Come  go  thou  ivith  us, 
and  we  icill  do  thee  good  ;  for  lie  that  seeketh  my  life 
seeketh  thy  life,  but  with  us  thou  shalt  be  in  safeguard." 
He  was  always  peculiarly  happy  in  the  choice  of  his 
texts,  selecting  them  in  reference  to  the  immediate 
occasion,  while  his  original  mode  of  treating  them, 
and  plain  familiar  way  of  talking,  as  it  were,  to  the 
soldiers,  never  failed  to  give  him  an  attentive  audience. 
His  known  coolness  in  danger,  and  even  complete  sang 
froid  when  under  fire  of  the  enemy,  made  him  a  great 
favorite  with  the  troops,  and  indeed  an  object  of  ad- 
miration as  a  man  to  the  officers. 

At  this  time  the  expedition  against  the  Indians  of 
western  New  York  was  organized,  and  General  Sulli- 
van placed  at  the  head  of  it.  He  immediately  issued 
orders  for  the  main  army  to  assemble  at  Wyoming,  the 
seat  of  the  massacre,  from  which  point  he  determined 
to  ascend  the  Susquehanna  to  the  Indian  settlements. 
Clinton,  in  the  meantime,  received  orders  to  advance 
up  the  Mohawk,  and  crossing  over  to  Otsego  Lake, 
the  head  of  the  Susquehanna,  form  a  junction  with 
Sullivan  at  any  point  he  should  designate.  A  hundred 
and  eight  flat-bottomed  boats  were  provided  to  convey 
his  troops  and  provisions,  and  floated  up  the  Mohawk 
to  Canajoharie.  Here  they  were  lifted  from  the  water 
and  transported  through  the  woods  and  swamps  six- 


264  JOHN      GANO, 

tccn  miles  to  Otsego.  While  a  part  of  the  army  was 
cutting  and  making  a  road  for  the  boats  and  carrying 
them  across  the  country,  another  portion  was  sent  to 
Otsego  to  dam  the  outlet  and  raise  the  water  in  the 
lake,  for  it  was  now  midsummer,  and  Clinton  had 
learned  that  the  Susquehanna  was  so  low  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  float  the  loaded  boats  down  it. 
The  army  lay  here  for  six  weeks  waiting  for  orders  to 
march,  during  which  time  Mr.  Gano's  labors  as  chap- 
lain were  uninterrupted.  In  all  his  intercourse  with 
the  troops  lie  kept  in  view  the  duties  of  his  station, 
and  never  suffered  an  opportunity  to  pass  in  which  he 
could  rebuke  sin  or  put  in  a  word  of  admonition.  One 
morning,  as  he  was  going  to  the  regimental  jirayers,  he 
passed  by  a  group  of  officers,  one  of  whom  not  seeing 
him  approach  was  swearing  in  an  excited  manner. 
The  other  officers  saluted  the  chaplain  as  usual,  when 
the  profane  lieutenant  turning  quickly  round  saw  him, 
and  checking  himself,  said,  "  Good  morning,  doctor." 
"Good  morning,"  replied  Gano,  "I  see  you  pray 
early."  The  abashed  officer  colored  and  stammered 
out,  "I  beg  your  pardon,  sir."  "Oh,"  replied  the 
chaplain,  passing  on,  " I  cannot  pardon  you,  you  must 
carry  your  case  to  God."  On  another  occasion  he  was 
standing  near  some  soldiers  who  was  disputing  respect- 
ing whose  duty  it  was  to  cut  wood  for  one  of  the  camp 
fires.     At  length  one  exclaimed  in  an  angry  manner, 

"I'll  be  d d  if  /  will  do  it."     Soon  after  finding 

he  must,  he  tool;  up  the  axe  to  perform  it,  Gano  im- 
mediately stepped  forward,  and  reaching  out  his  hand, 
said,  "Give  me  the  axe."     "Oh  no,"  replied  the  sol- 


FOURTH     OF     JULY.  265 

dier,  "the  chaplain  shan't  cut  the  wood/'  "Yes,  but 
I  must!'  "  Why  ?"  said  the  soldier  in  surprise.  "Be- 
cause I  just  heard  you  say  you  would  be  d d  if 

you  would  cut  it,  and  I  had  rather  do  it  for  you  than 
that  you  should  be  made  miserable  forever/'  The 
longest  homily  on  the  guilt  of  profanity  would  not 
have  produced  half  the  effect  on  the  soldiers  that  this 
indirect  rebuke  did. 

The  army  lay  here  on  the  4th  of  July,  and  General 
Clinton  prepared  to  celebrate  the  day  with  appropriate 
ceremonies.  Having  in  my  possession  the  original 
order  book  of  Clinton,  kept  during  this  expedition,  I 
insert  the  order  he  issued  on  this  occasion  as  a  curi- 
osity. "  This  day  being  the  anniversary  of  the  inde- 
pendence of  America,  the  General  is  pleased  to  order 
that  all  the  troops  under  his  command  should  draw  a 
gill  of  rum  per  man,  extraordinary,  in  memory  of  that 
happy  event. 

"  At  one  o'clock  this  afternoon  a  Fatigue  party, 
composed  of  four  Captains,  four  Subordinates,  eight 
Sergeants,  two  hundred  rank  and  file  will  assemble  in 
the  usual  place  of  parade  in  front  of  the  camp  with 
hatchets  or  axes,  to  clear  the  ground  of  the  brushes  and 
other  inconveniencies  which  are  thereon,  for  the  purpose 
of  parading  the  Army  for  the  (fue  De  Jove).  Lieut. 
Col.  Willett  will  take  command  of  of  the  above  party. 

"The  commanding  officers  of  regiments  will  see  that 

on  inspection  of  the  Ammunition  in  their  respective 

regiments  be  made  through  the  different  companies, 

and  if  there  is  any  spoiled  cartridges,  three  of  them 

will  be  allowed  for  every  soldier  for  the  fue  De  Jove, 
12 


266  j  o  n  n   g  a  n  o . 

in  lieu  of  which  those  who  shall  not  he  provided  the 
different  Quarter  Masters  will  make  a  return  to  the 
conductor  of  Military  stores  to  he  supplied  with  spoiled 
or  blank  cartridges,  three  per  man. 

U  The  troops  now  in  camp  will  parade  for  that  pur- 
pose in  front  of  the  encampment  at  half  past  three 
this  afternoon  in  one  line  from  right  to  left,  each  batta- 
lion will  take  place  as  they  are  now  encamped/'  (then 
follows  the  names  of  the  officers).  "  After  (fue  Do 
Joye)  is  finished,  a  sermon  will  he  preached  hy  the 
brigade  chaplain  on  this  happy  event. 

"And  it  is  the  General's  pleasure  that  the  troops 
under  his  command  will  asscmhle  at  7  o'clock  every 
evening  while  we  remain  in  this  place,  upon  the  grand 
parade,  for  prayers.  The  General  expects  that  the 
troops  will  he  clean  as  possible,  and  begs  that  every 
officer  will  exert  himself  on  that  subject." 

The  parade  being  finished,  Mr.  Gano  mounted  a 
pdatform,  and  casting  his  eye  over  the  glittering  ranks, 
whose  bright  uniforms  were  thrown  into  strong  relief 
by  the  green  woods  that  surrounded  them,  exclaimed, 
"  This  day  shall  be  a  memorial  unto  you  throughout 
your  generations"  Officers  and  men  listened  with 
the  deepest  attention  as  he  spoke  of  the  time  when  the 
day  on  which  the  declaration  of  independence  was 
given  to  the  world  would  be  celebrated  like  the  Jew's 
passover,  with  thanksgivings  and  public  rejoicings,  and 
kept  as  a  perpetual  memorial  of  God's  deliverance 
of  His  people.  In  speaking  of  it  he  said,  "On  this 
occasion  the  soldiers  behaved  with  the  most  decency 
that  I  ever  knew  them  to  during   the   war.     Some  of 


GETTING     OVER     SHOALS.  207 

them  usually  absented  themselves  from  worship  on 
Lord's  day,  and  the  only  punishment  they  were  sub- 
jected to  was  the  digging  up  of  stumps,  which  in  some 
instances  had  a  good  effect." 

The  long  delay  at  this  point  was  very  vexatious,  and 
a  nightmare  seemed  to  rest  on  the  expedition.  Gano, 
who  saw  that  both  officers  and  privates  were  getting  very 
impatient,  at  length  spoke  to  Clinton  on  the  subject. 
M  The  General/'  he  says,  *  informed  him  that  he  had  re- 
ceived orders  to  march,  and  that  he  should  move  the  next 
Monday.  He  requested  me  not  to  mention  it  till  after 
service  the  next  day,  which  was  Sunday.  I  preached  to 
them  from  these  words,  "  Being  ready  to  depart  on  the 
morrow!1  The  soldiers,  who  were  accustomed  to  look 
for  a  deep  meaning  in  his  very  texts,  listened  with 
more  than  common  interest  to  the  sermon  that  follow- 
ed. As  soon  as  the  services  closed,  Clinton  assembled 
the  officers,  and  ordered  that  each  captain  should  detail 
a  certain  number  of  men  from  his  company  to  draw 
the  boats  from  the  lake,  and  string  them  along  the 
Susquehannah  below  the  dam  and  load  them  so  that 
they  might  be  ready  to  depart  in  the  morning.  The 
following  day  at  sunrise  the  camp  broke  up,  and 
though  the  dam  had  been  opened  several  hours  previ- 
ous, yet  the  swell  it  had  occasioned  in  the  river  served 
to  carry  the  boats  over  the  shoals  and  flats,  which  oth- 
erwise would  have  been  impassable.  There  had  been  a 
long  drought,  and  it  was,  therefore,  a  matter  of  pro- 
found wonder  to  the  Indians  down  the  river,  for  above 
a  hundred  miles,  what  could  have  occasioned  such  an 
astonishing  freshet.     The  soldiers  marched  alon^  both 


268  jo  n  h  g  a  ft  o. 

banks,  excepting  the  invalids,  who  went  in  the  boats 
with  the  baggage  and  provisions."  Thus,  the  host 
streamed  on  through  the  forest,  lining  the  picturesque 
shores  of  the  Susquehanna  with  their  gay  uniforms, 
while  the  long  fleet  of  boats  wound  like  a  huge  ser- 
pent between.  Day  after  day  they  toiled  on,  and  at 
length  came  in  sight  of  Sullivan's  tents  at  Cayuga, 
when  loud  shouts  from  both  armies  made  the  wilder- 
ness ring.  The  whole  army  then  took  up  its  line  of 
march  for  the  Genesee  flats. 

The  battle  of  Newtown  followed,  in  which  the  In- 
dians, though  under  the  leadership  of  Butler  and 
Brant,  were  completely  routed.  After  the  battle  was 
over,  and  the  different  divisions  of  the  army  were  col- 
lected, "we  saw  ourselves/'  says  Gano,  " surrounded 
by  a  large  field  of  Indian  corn,  pumpkins,  squashes, 
beans,  &c,  which  was  no  unpleasant  sight  to  soldiers 
who  were  hungry  as  we  were.  Here  General  Sullivan 
displayed  his  generalship  by  putting  the  army  on  half 
allowance,  that  we  might  more  effectually  secure  the 
victory  by  pursuing  the  Indians.  Our  success  and  the 
exhortation  of  our  officers  induced  the  soldiery  to  a 
cheerful  compliance,  and  they  consequently  sent  up  a 
loud  huzza.  An  Irishman  observing  this,  said  he  had 
been  a  long  time  in  the  British  army,  and  some  time  in 
the  service  of  America,  but  he  never  heard  soldiers  cry 
huzza  for  half  allowance  before  ;  however,  as  they  all 
had,  he  would"  and  shouted  lustily. 

Scattering  the  Indians  from  its  path,  and  burning 
their  towns  as  it  advanced,  the  army  at  last  reached 
the  point  of  its  destination,   the   beautiful   Genesee 


REVISITS     HIS     FAMILY.  2G9 

Flats.  Here  it  encamped  over  night,  and  in  the 
morning,  while  Gano  stood  looking  over  the  amazing 
fields  of  waving  corn  that  spread  away  on  every  side,  he 
heard  the  heavy  boom  of  cannon  sullenly  swelling  over 
the  western  wilderness.  It  was  the  morning  gun  of 
the  English  at  Niagara,  whither  the  Indians  were  sup- 
posed to  be  fled.  Laying  waste  those  vast  fields  ripe  for 
the  sickle — the  Indians'  only  hope  for  the  coming  win- 
ter— the  army  took  up  its  retrograde  march  for  Easton. 
"  But  here,"  says  Gano,  "  I  must  not  forget  to  men- 
tion a  circumstance  peculiarly  pleasing  to  me.  Two  or 
three  young  soldiers  were  under  great  distress  of  mind 
concerning  their  souls,  and  frequently  came  to  see  and 
converse  with  me." 

As  he  witnessed  the  destruction  of  the  grain,  and 
imagined  the  despair  of  the  Indians  when  they  should 
return  and  see  their  fields  laid  waste,  and  think  of  the 
sufferings  that  awaited  them  in  the  coming  winter — 
the  righteous  punishment  for  obeying  the  orders  of 
a  tyrannical  king — a  text  often  occurred  to  him 
which  he  one  day  mentioned  to  General  Sullivan. 
"They  shall  walk  through  them  ;  be  an  hungry  and 
curse  their  God  and  king,  and  look  upwards."  The 
general  said,  "  We  will  have  a  sermon  from  that  text, 
and  when  we  arrive  at  Easton  you  shall  preach  it." 

After  the  return  of  the  army  Gano  obtained  a  fur- 
lough in  order  to  visit  his  family.  The  next  winter 
the  division  to  which  he  was  attached  encamped  near 
Newbury,  and  as  his  family  wrere  at  Warwick,  not  far 
distant,  he  was  at  home  a  considerable  part  of  the 
time. 


270  JOHN     GANO. 

When  Washington  collected  the  army  in  New  Jer- 
sey, and  began  to  erect  large  ovens,  every  one  supposed 
he  designed  to  attack  the  British  in  New  York.  But 
the  combined  armies,  French  and  American,  suddenly 
broke  up  their  camps  and  made  that  forced  march  into 
Virginia,  by  which  Cornwallis  was  shut  up  at  Glou- 
cester Point  and  compelled  to  capitulate.  Gano,  with 
others,  was  BO  taken  by  surprise  at  this  sudden  move- 
ment that  he  was  wholly  unprepared  to  march,  having, 
he  said,  "but  one  change  of  linen/'  Stating  his  des- 
titute condition  to  General  Clinton,  he  asked  leave  of 
absence  to  get  more.  But  the  general  refused  his  re- 
quest, and  said  he  must  go  on  at  all  events  with  the 
division.  Luckily,  when  they  arrived  in  Newark,  he 
found  an  old  lady  who  had  been  a  member  of  his 
church  in  New  York.  "  I  told  her,"  he  says,  "  my 
situation,  and  she  furnished  me  what  was  needful  for 
the  campaign/'  The  army  was  hurried  on  at  the  top 
of  its  speed,  but  when  Clinton's  division  reached  Bal- 
timore, his  aid  was  taken  sick,  and  he  asked  Gano  to 
remain  behind  with  him  till  he  was  able  to  proceed. 
He  did  so,  and  in  speaking  of  the  event  says,  "  The 
major's  anxiety  to  follow  the  army  retarded  his  re- 
covery. However,  he  attempted  it,  and  set  out,  but 
after  one  or  two  days  he  was  obliged  to  lay  by.  In  a 
day  or  two  we  Bet  off  again,  but  did  not  reach  the  army 
before  the  British  capitulated.  However,  we  partook 
of  the  j  >y  with  our  brethren/'  That  "joy  of  the 
brethren*'  was  a  true  "joy.?  Without  were  shouts, 
acclamations  and  the  boisterous  exultation  of  the  en- 
thusiastic soldiers,  but  within,  among  the  noble  chap- 


REMOVES     TO     KENTUCKY.  271 

lains  of  that  army  were  devout  thanksgivings,  humble, 
grateful  prayers,  and  tears  of  joy  too  deep  for  utter- 
ance. 

Mr.  Gano  returned  to  Newbury,  where  the  army 
erected  huts  to  live  in  during  the  winter,  and  one  larger 
than  the  rest  for  a  place  of  public  worship  on  the  Sab- 
bath. Here  three  services  a  day  were  held,  the  chap- 
lains from  each  brigade  preaching  in  rotation. 

Thus  passed  the  winter,  while  rumors  of  peace  filled 
the  land  with  hope  and  delight.  In  the  spring  the 
British  evacuated  New  York,  and  Gano  returned  to 
the  city,  to  find  his  house  dilapidated  and  plundered. 
His  scattered  congregation,  such  as  were  living,  sooa 
returned,  and  he  settled  down  once  more  to  his  pas- 
toral labors.  He  continued  here  for  some  time,  but 
attracted  by  representations  made  to  him  of  the  grow- 
ing state  of  Kentucky,  and  hoping  to  relieve  himself 
from  debt  which  he  saw  no  way  of  canceling  in  his 
present  position,  he  removed  thither  in  1781,  much  to 
the  disappointment  and  regret  of  his  church.  He  set- 
tled near  Frankfort,  where  he  died  in  1804,  in  the 
seventy-fifth  year  of  his  age.  A  fall  from  his  horse  in 
1798,  followed  by  a  paralytic  shock,  rendered  him  a 
cripple  the  last  six  years  of  his  life,  but  he  never 
ceased  his  labors — sometimes  preaching  while  lying  on 
his  back.  Calm  and  resigned,  he  saw  death  approach 
without  a  terror,  and  to  a  friend  who  asked  him  if  he 
wanted  to  go  homo  and  bo  with  Christ,  he  faintly, 
sweetly  answered,  "  Yes."  This  was  the  last  utterance 
of  his  lips  on  earth,  and  the  Christan  and  patriot  passed 
to  that  better  land  reserved  for  the  people  of  God. 


272  JOHN     GANO. 

True  to  his  country,  true  to  his  high  office,  true  to  his 
God,  he  went  through  the  trying  scenes  of  the  Revo- 
lution, and  through  life  honored,  respected  and  loved 
by  all  who  knew  him,  and  now  sleeps  with  those 
whose  names  are  inscribed  in  the  hearts  of  their 
countrymen. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

CHARLES   CUMMINGS. 

An  Irishman  by  Birth. — Settles  in  Virginia.— Esters  the  Ministry.— Fights 
the  Indians. — Goes  armed  to  his  Church.— Takes  the  Lead  in  the  political 
Movements  of  the  People. — Chaplain  to  the  Army  in  the  Expedition 
against  the  Cuerokees. — His  Death. 

Charles  Cummings  was  an  Irishman  by  birth,  but 

coming  in  early  manhood  to  this  country  received  his 

theological  education  here.     He  located  in  Virginia, 

where  he  studied  divinity,  and  being  licensed  to  preach 

in  1767,  settled  at  North  Mountain,  Augusta  county. 

In  1772  he  received  a  call  from  the  people  of  Holston, 

embracing  the  congregations  of  Sinking   Spring  and 

Ebbing  Spring.     At  this  time  the  Indians  were  very 

troublesome   in  the   neighbourhood,   and   during   the 

summer  months  the  people  were  obliged  to  collect  in 

the  forts  for  safety.     In  1776  Mr.  Cummings'  family 

being   in   one   of  the  forts,   he,   with  a  servant  and 

wagon  and  three  neighbors,  went  one  day  to  a  farm 

not  far  distant  on  an  errand,  when  they  were  attacked 

by  a  party  of  Indians.     The  first  intimation  they  had 

of  the  presence  of  the  savages  was  a  volley  from  the 

woods  bordering  the  road,  which  tumbled  the  driver 

from  his  seat.     Mr.  Cummings  and  his  companions 

immediately  returned  the  fire,  and  a  sharp  skirmish 

followed.     In   a   few   minutes,    however,   two   of  the 
12* 


274  C  H  A  R  L  E  S     CUMMINOS, 


neighbors  fell  mortally  wounded.  The  Indians  being 
under  cover,  Mr.  Cummings  saw  that  to  remain  longer 
where  they  were  would  bo  certain  death,  and  turning 
to  his  servant  told  him  to  follow  him,  and  leading  the 
way,  charged  boldly  into  the  bushes.  The  savages, 
surprised  at  the  sudden  onset,  broke  cover  with  a  fierce 
yell.  They  did  not  flee,  however,  but  turned  furiously 
on  their  assailants.  At  this  critical  moment,  when  his 
fate  seemed  hopeless,  Mr.  Cummings  heard  a  shout  in 
the  road  near  him.  Those  in  the  fort  had  heard  the 
firing,  and  knowing  at  once  that  the  little  party  was 
attacked,  hastily  sent  out  a  detachment  to  its  relief. 
Coming  up  on  a  run  it  had  arrived  just  as  the  Indians 
turned  on  Mr.  Cummings  and  his  servant.  It  soon 
finished  the  unequal  fight. 

The  war  with  the  mother  country,  which  had  already 
commenced,  set  the  entire  frontier  in  a  blaze,  and  the 
congregation  of  Mr.  Cummings  found  themselves  so 
surrounded  with  dangers  that  when  they  assembled  for 
worship  on  the  Sabbath  they  locked  up  their  houses 
and  took  their  families  with  them  to  church.  All 
along  the  beautiful  valley,  groups  would  be  seen — (the 
men  armed) — slowly  and  cautiously  gathering  to  the 
house  of  prayer.  Last  of  all  came  the  pastor,  mounted 
on  his  dun  horse,  his  rifle  on  his  shoulder,  and  his  am- 
munition belt  buckled  to  Iris  side.  Arriving  at  the 
::r_r-house,  he  would  fasten  his  horse  to  a  tree  and 
a  short  walk  by  himself  wrapped  in  meditation. 
When  the  con  i  was  all  assembled — each  man 

seated  with  his  rill  )  by  his  side — he  would  enter  the 
church,  and  walking  Bolemnly  through  the  double  lino 


Of 


ON   COMMITTEE  OF   SAFETY.     275 

of  steel  mount  the  steps  of  the  pulpit,  and  standing 
his  rifle  in  the  corner,  lay  aside  his  powder  flask,  and 
commence  the  services  of  the  day. 

He  took  a  leading  part  in  all  patriotic  movements 
of  his  congregation,  arid  when  the  freeholders  of  Fin- 
castle  county  met  to  consult  on  the  measures  they 
should  adopt  in  the  perilous  condition  of  affairs,  ho 
was  the  first  man  named  on  the  committee  appointed 
to  draw  up  an  address  to  the  Continental  Congress. 
He  was  also  chairman  of  the  committee  of  safety,  of 
Washington  county.  Known  throughout  the  entire 
region  for  his  daring  courage,  as  well  as  for  his  sterling 
piety,  when  the  first  army  was  organized  to  penetrate 
Tennessee  and  attack  the  Cherokees,  he  was  chosen  its 
chaplain,  and  shared  all  the  perils  and  hardships  of 
that  march  through  the  wilderness. 

He  died  in  1812,  in  the  eightieth  year  of  his  age. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

DANIEL  McCALLA. 

His  Birth. — Graduates  at  Princeton  ttiien  eighteen  tears  of  age. — Studies 
for  the  Ministry. — Settles  in  Pennsylvania. — Appointed  Chaplain  under 
General  Thompson. — Is  taken  Prisoner  in  the  Attack  on  "Three  Rivers.'* 
— Thrown  into  a  Prison  Ship. — TI is  Sufferings  and  Fortitude. — Released 
on  Parole. — Flees  to  Virginia. — Settles  in  South  Carolina.— -His  Death. 

Daniel  McCalla  was  born  at  Neshaminy,  Pa.,  in 
1748.  Fond  of  study,  and  gifted  with  a  fine  intellect, 
he  was  able  to  enter  Princeton  College  when  only  four- 
teen years  of  age,  and  graduated  in  his  nineteenth 
year.  He  did  not  immediately  commence  the  study 
of  his  profession,  but  took  charge  of  an  academy  in 
Philadelphia,  where  he  remained  for  some  time.  He 
kept  the  ministry,  however,  constantly  in  view,  and 
in  1772  was  licensed  to  preach,  and  soon  after  settled 
over  the  united  congregations  of  New  Providence  and 
Charleston,  in  Pennsylvania.  But  before  the  year  of 
his  ordination  closed,  blood  had  flowed  at  Lexington 
and  Concord,  and  he  saw  that  the  long  dreaded  con- 
flict had  come.  He  had  watched  the  approaching 
storm  with  the  deepest  interest,  and  in  and  out  of  the 
pulpit  proclaimed  the  duty  of  resistance,  and  aroused 
the  martial  spirit  of  his  hearers  ;  and  now  when  the 
war  had  actually  commenced!  he  could  not  remain  at 
home  an  idle  spectator.  Offering  his  services  to  Con- 
gress, he  was  appointed  by  that  body  chaplain  to  the 


ATTACK    ON     THREE     RIVERS.  277 

troops  under  General  Thompson,  which  had  been  or- 
dered to  Canada. 

In  the  unfortunate  attack  on  the  British  at  Three 
Rivers  he  was  made  prisoner.  Gen.  Thompson,  at  the 
head  of  fourteen  hundred  men,  had  been  ordered  by 
Sullivan  to  join  St.  Clair,  and  proceed  to  this  place,  and 
if  on  a  close  inspection  he  should  consider  it  advisable, 
to  attack  it.  The  force,  under  his  command,  about  two 
thousand  strong,  dropped  down  the  river  in  the  night 
and  drifting  noiselessly  by  the  British  vessels  that  lay 
at  anchor  in  the  stream,  rapidly  approached  the  post. 
Thompson  hoped  to  reach  it  before  daylight  and  carry 
it  by  surprise,  but,  contrary  to  his  expectations,  he  did 
not  arrive  till  nearly  sunrise.  He  had  scarcely  com- 
menced landing  when  the  rolling  of  the  drum,  beating  to 
quarters,  told  him  that  he  was  discovered.  Seeing  that 
an  open  battle  was  now  inevitable,  he  hastily  marshalled 
his  troops  on  the  shore  and  prepared  to  advance.  But 
to  move  direct  on  the  place,  he  discovered,  would  expose 
his  column  to  a  raking  lire  from  some  vessels  that  lay 
in  the  stream,  and  he,  therefore,  made  a  circuit  to 
avoid  them.  In  doing  so  became  entangled  in  a  deep 
morass.  While  he  was  floundering  through  this,  the 
British  not  only  got  time  to  prepare  for  his  reception 
in  front,  but  also  to  send  a  party  to  the  rear  and  cut 
off  his  return  to  the  boats.  McCalla  waded  through 
the  swamp  side  by  side  with  his  General,  and  when 
the  latter  took  the  desperate  resolution  to  advance  to 
the  attack,  moved  with  him  into  the  fire.  A  sharp 
conflict  followed,  but  it  was  plain  to  the  most  unprac- 
tised eye  how  it  must  terminate,  and  that  the  enterprise 


278  SAMUEL      M  .     CALLA. 

was  a  failure.  They  could  not  advance,  while  the 
retreat  to  the  boats  being  cut  off,  it  was  equally  impos- 
sible to  fall  back.  Finding  themselves  thus  blocked 
in  before  and  behind,  and  exposed  to  a  destructive  fire, 
which  was  rapidly  thinning  their  ranks,  the  main  body 
plunged  into  a  swamp  near  by,  where  the  British  did 
not  deem  it  prudent  to  follow  them.  Thompson,  how- 
ever, with  his  chaplain  and  some  two  hundred  others, 
were  taken  prisoners.  With  their  usual  hatred  of 
"  rebel  parsons/'  (as  they  called  them,)  the  British 
threw  this  accomplished  scholar  and  divine  into  a 
loathsome  prison  ship,  and  subjected  him  to  a  treat- 
ment that  would  have  disgraced  savages.  Crowded 
into  the  hold  with  the  sick  and  dying,  breathing  the 
foulest  air — made  the  companion  of  vermin,  and  com- 
pelled to  perform  the  most  menial  offices,  and  asssailed 
with  jibes  and  insults,  he  lay  for  months  on  board  this 
filthy  floating  lazar-house.  Food  fit  only  for  swine  was 
given  him,  and  even  this,  his  'brutal  captors  begrudged 
him  so  that  he  came  near  dying  from  starvation. 
His  fate  was  that  of  a  martyr,  and  he  bore  it  like  one 
— unsubdued,  firm,  and  noble  through  all.  At  length, 
apparently  tired  of  the  attempt  to  wear  out  the  life  of 
this  brave  young  chaplain,  not  yet  thirty  years  of  age, 
they,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  year,  released  him  on 
parole.  Pale,  wan,  dirty,  and  in  tatters,  but  with  a 
spirit  unsubdued,  he  was  led  forth  once  more  into  tho 
free  air.  His  form  was  bowed,  though  not  with  years, 
but  the  fire  in  his  eye  was  undimmed.  Leaving 
the  spot  where  he  had  so  long  suffered  a  living 
death,  he  returned  to  his  congregation.     He  had   re- 


SETTLED    IN    SOUTH    CAROLINA.         279 

sumed  his  charge,  however,  but  a  short  time  when  ho 
was  accused  of  having  broken  his  parole,  because  ho 
publicly  prayed  for  his  beloved  country,  and  for  tho 
success  of  its  armies.  Finding  that  for  this  heinous 
crime  he  was  in  danger  of  again  being  seized  as  a  pris- 
oner, he  left  his  congregation  and  fled  into  Virginia. 
Chafing  under  the  restrictions  his  parole  placed  on 
his  words  and  actions,  he  sought,  and  eventually  ob- 
tained a  release  from  it  by  an  exchange  of  prisoners. 
He  continued  a  warm  supporter  of  the  American 
cause  till  the  close  of  the  war.  He  afterwards  went 
to  South  Carolina,  and  was  settled  in  Christ  Church 
parish,  near  Charleston,  where  he  remained  a  "  dili- 
gent student  and  faithful  pastor  to  the  close  of  his 
life."  He  suffered  from  a  protracted  disease,  which  it 
is  supposed  was  aggravated  by  the  death  of  his  only 
child,  the  wife  of  Dr.  Witherspoon,  at  the  early  age  of 
twenty-six. 

He  lived  to  see  the  country,  for  which  he  had 
labored  and  suffered,  on  the  high  road  to  prosperity, 
and  in  the  sixty-second  year  of  his  age,  in  perfect 
peace,  and  in  full  confidence  of  a  better  life  to  come, 
passed  to  his  reward. 


CHAPTER     XXVIII, 

JOHN   WITHERSPOOX,    D.  IX 

Tns  Clergy  as  Statesmen. — Witiierspoon  a  Scotchman  by  Birth. — TIis  Early 
Life.— Is  licensed  to  preach. — Joins  tiik  Army  of  the  Pretender. — Taken 
Prisonkr  at  the  Battle  of  Falkirk. — His  Eminence  as  a  Theologian.— Is 
elected  President  of  Princeton  College. — Flattering  Reception  in  this 
Country. — Takes  Sides  with  the  Colonies. — Elected  Memijer  of  the  New 
Jersey  Legislature. — Scathing  Attack  of  Governor  Franklin. — Elected 
Member  of  Congress. — His  Speech  on  the  Declaration  of  Independence. — 
His  Great  Services  in  Congress. — His  Death. 

The  clergy  of  the  country  were  found  not  only  in  the 
pulpit  unci  field  upholding  the  cause  of  ,the  American 
Colonies,  and  in  the  ranks  fighting  for  it,  but  also  in 
the  counsels  of  the  nation  lending  both  the  sanction 
of  their  office  and  the  ripened  fruit  of  long  years  of 
study  to  promote  its  success.  Foremost  among  these 
was  Dr.  Witiierspoon,  a  Scotchman  by  birth,  but  in 
every  other  respect  an  American  patriot.  He  was  born 
in  Tester,  near  Edinburgh,  in  1722.  Licensed  to  preach 
when  scarcely  of  age,  he,  in  1744,  was  presented  with 
the  parish  of  Beith  by  the  Earl  of  Eglinton.  A  short 
time  after  he  was  ordained,  the  Pretender  landed  in 
the  north  of  Scotland,  and  the  Highlanders  rallying 
with  enthusiasm  to  his  standard  he  moved  southward. 
Carried  away  by  the  general  enthusiasm,  young  With- 
erspoon  raised  a  corps  of  militia,  and  putting  himself 
at  its  head  marched  to  Glasgow.  lie  was  taken  pris- 
oner at  the  battlo  of  Falkirk  and  confined  in  the  castle 


PRESIDENT  OF  PRINCETON  COLLEGE.   281 

of  Donne,  where  he  remained  till  after  the  terrible  over- 
throw of  the  Pretender  at  the  battle  of  Culloden.  He 
was  then  released,  and  returned  to  his  ministerial  labors. 
He  soon  rose  to  eminence  in  his  native  country,  and  his 
fame  having  reached  this  side  of  the  water  he  was  elected 
president  of  Princeton  College.  Embarking  in  May, 
1768,  he,  after  a  long  voyage,  reached  Philadelphia, 
where  he  was  received  with  great  honor.  His  arrival 
at  Princeton  was  celebrated  by  an  illumination  of  the 
college  and  town,  and  the  whole  province  shared  in  the 
general  joy  felt  at  the  accession  of  such  a  man  to  its  seat 
of  learning.  Inaugurated  president  in  August,  he  de- 
voted himself  with  his  accustomed  energy  to  the  duties 
of  his  position,  and  soon  gave  a  new  impetus  to  the 
cause  of  learning  in  the  country,  and  elevated  to  a 
higher  rank  at  home  and  abroad  the  character  of  the 
college.  He  threw  himself  with  his  accustomed  ardor 
into  the  contest  between  the  Colonies  and  the  mother 
country,  and  at  once  took  the  position  of  leader  of 
the  patriots  in  Ne\v  Jersey,  which  he  ever  after  main- 
tained. 

When  Congress  appointed  a  day  of  fasting  and 
prayer  in  May,  1776,  Dr.  Witherspoon  preached  a  dis- 
course, entitled  "The  Dominion  of  Providence  over  the 
Passions  of  Men/'  in  which  he  went  thoroughly  into 
the  great  political  questions  of  the  day.  The  sermon 
being  published,  it  was  received  with  warm  encomiums 
in  America,  but  denounced  in  Scotland,  where  it  was 
republished,  with  notes,  and  the  author  stigmatized 
as  a  rebel  and  traitor.  A  few  days  after  its  delivery 
the   provincial    Congress   of    New   Jersey    met,    and 


282  JOHN     WITHERSPOOXj     D.D. 

Witherspoon,  who  had  been  elected  a  member,  took 
his  seat  in  it.  Among  its  first  acts  was  the  passage 
of  an  order  requiring  the  governor  to  present  himself 
before  it  to  answer  for  his  conduct  in  opposing  tho 
action  of  the  colonists.  He  came  and  being  escorted 
into  the  hall  by  a  military  guard,  assumed  a  haughty, 
overbearing  demeanor,  and  refusing  to  answer  any  ques- 
tions that  were  put  to  him,  told  the  representatives  of 
the  people  that  they  wrere  an  illegal  assembly,  ignorant, 
low  bred  men,  wholly  unfit  and  unable  to  devise  any 
measures  for  the  public  good,  and  deserved  to  be  hung 
as  rebels.  Witherspoon  fixed  his  keen  eye  upon  him, 
and  listened  in  suppressed  scorn  and  indignation  to  his 
vulgar,  insolent  tirade,  and  the  moment  he  closed  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and  unbottling  the  stores  of  irony  and  sar- 
casm that  had  been  rapidly  filling,  poured  on  the  aston- 
ished representative  of  the  king  a  rebuke  so  withering 
that  the  boldest  held  his  breath  in  astonishment.  He 
coolly  reminded  the  governor  of  his  illegitimate  origin 
and  the  early  neglect  of  his  education  and  well  known 
ignorance  of  all  scientific  and  liberal  knowledge,  to  show 
with  how  little  propriety  lie  could  denounce  them  as 
ignorant,  incapable  men,  and  concluded  by  Baying,  in 
his  tone  of  bitterest*  sarcasm  :  "  On  the  whole,  Mr. 
President,  I  think  that  Governor  Franklin  has  made 
us  a  speech  every  way  ivorihy  of  his  exalted  birth  and 
refmed  education"    When  the  rote  waa  finally  taken 

on  deposing  the  governor,  his  decided  aye,  left  no  doubt 
of  the  Course  lie  meant  to  pursue.  The  day  after  this 
high  handed  act  he  was  elected,  with  five  others,  to 
represent  New  Jersey  in  the  Continental  Congress.    He 


SIGNS    "the    declaration."       283 

joined  it  a  few  days  before  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence, and  among  the  lofty  intellects  assembled  in 
Independence  Hall,  in  Philadelphia,  he  was  among  the 
first.  No  doubt  or  vacillation  marked  his  course. 
Intrepid,  resolute  and  far-seeing,  he  gave  the  whole 
weight  of  his  influence  to  the  side  of  complete  inde- 
pendence. 

When  the  "Declaration"  was  reported  and  laid 
before  Congress  for  their  adoption  and  signature,  every 
one  felt  that  a  fearful  crisis  had  come.  Some  true 
patriots  wavered.  The  step  which  should  forever  sep- 
arate them  entirely  from  the  mother  country,  and 
plunge  the  land  in  a  war  the  end  of  which  no  man 
could  foresee,  was  a  momentous  one  to  take,  but  the 
hour  of  decision  had  arrived,  and  not  only  the  fate  of 
a  great  nation,  but  of  man — the  world  over — hung  sus- 
pended on  it.  That  august  body  felt  the  tremendous 
responsibility  that  rested  upon  it,  and  a  deep  and 
solemn  silence  reigned  throughout  the  hall.  In  the 
midst  of  it  Witherspoon  arose  and  said,  "  Mr.  Presi- 
dent— That  noble  instrument  on  your  table,  which 
insures  immortality  to  its  author,  should  be  subscribed 
this  very  morning  by  every  pen  in  the  House.  He 
who  will  not  respond  to  its  accents,  and  strain  every 
nerve  to  carry  into  effect  its  provisions,  is  unworthy 
the  name  of  freeman.  Although  these  gray  hairs 
must  descend  into  the  sepulchre,  I  would  infinitely 
rather  they  should  descend  thither  by  the  hand  of  the 
executioner  than  desert  at  this  crisis  the  sacred  cause 
of  my  country*'  The  venerable  man  sat  down,  but 
those  great  words  continued  to  vibrate  in  each  heart, 


284  JOHN     WITHERSPOON,     D.D. 

strengthening  the  firm,  and  giving  courage  to  the 
wavering.  And  when  a  timid  member  remarked  that 
the  country  was  not  ripe  for  such  a  declaration  of 
independence,  Witherspoon  replied,  in  a  voice  that 
rung  through  the  hall,  "  In  my  judgment,  sir,  toe  are 
not  only  ripe,  but  rotten.31  With  an  untremulous 
hand,  and  a  heart  firm  and  steady,  he  put  his  name  to 
that  immortal  instrument.  He  continued  a  member 
of  Congress  for  six  years,  and  became  identified  with 
some  of  the  most  important  measures  adopted  by  that 
body.  He  was  a  member  of  the  Secret  Committee, 
and  of  the  Board  of  War,  and  one  of  the  most  active 
men  in  the  various  committees  to  which  he  was  ap- 
pointed. He  made  a  report  to  Congress  of  the  cruel 
treatment  of  prisoners  by  the  British  in  New  York, 
and  helped  prepare  a  protest  on  the  subject.  He  was 
sent  also  to  the  head-quarters  of  the  army  to  improve 
the  condition  of  the  troops,  and  was  constantly  em- 
ployed in  devising  measures  for  the  welfare  of  the 
colonies.  Although  a  member  of  Congress,  he  never 
laid  aside  his  ministerial  character,  but  preached  on 
the  Sabbath,  and  always  wore  his  clerical  robes  in 
Congress  during  its  sittings.  He  wrote  most  of  the 
Congressional  addresses  to  the  country  recommending 
Fasts,  etc.  His  "  Thoughts  on  American  Liberty, " 
and  his  speeches  in  Congress  against  the  prodigal  issue 
of  paper  money,  and  other  Slate  papers,  are  well  known, 
and  can  only  be  referred  to  here.  In  the  darkest  hour 
his  courage  never  faltered  ;  for,  to  a  high,  heroic  spirit, 
he  added  an  unwavering  trust  in  God,  and  a  belief 
that  He  would  eventually  enable  us  to  triumph.    Far- 


IMMOVEABLE      INTEGRITY.  285 

seeing  and  sagacious,  he  seemed  to  anticipate  evils 
that  escaped  the  observation  of  others,  and  provided 
against  them.  When  Thomas  Paine,  though  in  the  fresh 
popularity  of  his  "  Crisis  "  was  proposed  as  Secretary 
to  the  Committee  of  Foreign  Affairs,  he  strenuously 
opposed  his  appointment,  not  deeming  him,  he  said,  a 
safe  man  for  the  office.  So,  also,  when  Wilkinson  made 
his  tardy  appearance  on  the  floor  of  Congress  with  the 
standards  sent  to  it  by  Gen.  Gates,  and  a  member 
moved  that  the  bearer  be  voted  a  costly  sword  for  his 
services,  he,  seeing  through  all  this  delay,  and  pene- 
trating the  contemptible  designs  of  him  and  Gates, 
that  afterward  assumed  more  definite  shape,  to  unseat 
Washington  as  commander-in-chief,  arose,  and  with  an 
emphasis  and  tone  that  pierced  like  a  dagger,  proposed, 
in  place  of  a  sword,  that  the  messenger  should  be 
"rewarded  ivith  a  pair  of  golden  spurs" 

It  is  impossible  in  a  short  sketch  to  give  in  detail  a 
history  of  his  career  in  Congress.  It  is  enough  to  say 
that  at  the  time  it  was  the  most  august  body  of  men 
that  ever  sat  in  deliberation  over  the  fate  of  a  free 
people,  he,  in  intellect,  integrity  and  influence,  ranked 
among  the  first ;  and  at  a  later  period,  when  it  became 
degraded  to  a  miserable  cabal,  the  hot  bed  of  conspira- 
cies and  the  fountain  of  all  mischief,  he  stood  "  faith- 
ful among  the  faithless,"  one  of  the  few  noble  columns 
that  towered  unshaken  amid  the  disorders  and  turbu- 
lence that  for  a  time  threatened  to  make  that  body  a 
hissing  and  bye-word  in  the  nation.  While  it  is  well 
for  the  reputation  of  many  that  composed  it  and  for 
that  of  the  country  at  large  that  the  journal  for  a  long 


286  j  o  n  n    wnnERsrooN,   d.d. 

period  was  destroyed,  it  is  a  pity,  that,  for  such  as  ho 
and  a  few  others,  it  was  not  preserved,  to  show  their  in- 
tegrity and  patriotism  in  every  trial  and  temptation. 
With  a  presence  like  that  of  Washington  that  com- 
manded respect  and  awe,  whenever  he  arose  to  address 
Congress  every  eye  was  turned  upon  him.  His  sarcasm 
was  withering,  and  the  boldest  winced  under  it,  while 
he  possessed  a  power  in  argument  and  a  persuasive  elo- 
quence which  nothing  could  withstand,  and  that  made 
him  the  bulwark  of  liberty  to  the  last.  His  duties  as 
a  clergyman  and  those  of  a  legislator  he  performed 
with  the  same  conscientiousness,  and  in  them  felt  he 
was  equally  doing  God's  service.  He  died  the  15th  of 
November,  1794,  in  full  possession  of  his  faculties,  and 
in  calm,  sublime  trust  in  the  Saviour. 

lie  was  a  voluminous  writer  and  active  worker  to  the 
last.  An  edition  of  his  works,  comprising  three  octavo 
volumes,  was  published  in  1803,  in  Philadelphia,  under 
the  supervision  of  Rev.  Dr.  Green,  and  one  of  nine 
volumes  duodecimo,  in  Edinburgh,  in  1815.  If  the 
pulpit  of  America  had  given  only  this  one  man  to  the 
Revolution,  it  would  deserve  to  be  held  in  everlasting 
remembrance  for  the  service  it  rendered  the  country. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

DAVID   AVERY. 
His  Birth  and  Character. — Cohvektkd  under  Whitfield. — Leaves  his  Trade 

TO    STUDY    FOR    THE    MINISTRY. — ENTERS    Dr.    WiIEELOCK'S    ClIARITY    SCHOOL. — 

Graduates  at  Yale  College. — Studies  Divinity. — A  Missionary  among  the 
Indians.— Settled  at  Gayscoro,  Vermont.— His  Patriotism.— Raises  a  Com- 
pany and  Marches  to  Boston. — Made  Chaplain. — Noddle's  Island. — Pres- 
ent at  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill. — Praying  for  Victory. — Accompanies 
"Washington  through  the  Jerseys. — Wounded  at  Trenton. — At  Valley 
Forge.— At  Ticonderoga. — At  Bennington. — His  Death. 

Mr.  Avery  was  born  in  that  part  of  Norwich,  Con- 
necticut, now  called  Franklin,  April  5th,  1746.  His 
parents,  John  and  Lyclia  (Smith)  Avery,  were  blessed 
with  a  large  family  of  children,  though  possessing  but 
limited  means  to  provide  for  their  education.  Hence 
David  was  apprenticed  at  an  early  age  to  a  house-joiner 
in  his  native  town.  Gentle  and  kind  in  his  manners, 
and  with  a  heart  full  of  tenderness,  he  had  at  the  same 
time  a  bold  and  fearless  nature  which,  when  roused,  it 
was  dangerous  to  oppose.  Soon  after  he  commenced 
his  apprenticeship  he  heard  the  celebrated  Whitfield 
preach,  who  was  then  electrifying  the  country  with  his 
eloquence,  and  stirring  the  hearts  of  men  by  his  solemn 
appeals  and  overwhelming  application  of  divine  truth 
to  the  conscience.  Young  Avery  went  at  first  from 
curiosity  to  hear  one  so  distinguished  for  his  eloquence, 
but  soon  became  deeply  impressed  with  the  truths  he 
uttered,  and  eventually  embraced  religion.    Ardent  and 


288  DAVID      AVERT. 

resolute  in  every  thing  he  undertook,  he  "wished  to  de- 
vote his  life  to  the  services  of  his  Master  in  a  more 
direct  and  efficient  manner  than  he  thought  he  should 
be  able  to  do  by  pursuing  his  trade,  and  he  resolved,  if 
he  could  obtain  the  means,  to  educate  himself  to  be- 
come a  minister  of  the  gospel.  Applying  to  his  parents 
for  aid  he  was  met  with  the  disheartening  answer  that 
it  was  out  of  their  power  to  help  him.  He  then  turned 
to  his  elder  brothers  and  begged  them  to  loan  him  the 
necessary  money  to  make  a  beginning,  but  was  again 
disappointed.  Thrown  back  upon  his  own  resources, 
he  nevertheless  did  not  despair,  but  went  resolutely  to 
work  at  his  trade  till  he  obtained  money  sufficient  to 
buy  himself  a  stock  of  clothing,  and  then  entered  Dr. 
Eliezer  Wheelock's  Indian  Charity  School,  situated  in 
that  part  of  Lebanon  now  known  as  Hebron.  Apply- 
ing himself  energetically  to  the  task  of  fitting  himself 
for  college,  he  made  the  rapid  advancement  which  young 
men  of  intellect  invariably  do  who  feel  that  they  are 
to  be  the  artificers  of  their  own  fortune.  It  was  here 
that  he  became  familiar  with  the  Indian  character,  a 
knowledge  that  fitted  him  so  admirably  to  act,  as  he 
afterwards  did,  as  a  missionary  to  the  Indians  of  Cen- 
tral New  York.  He  paid  his  expenses  by  spending 
a  portion  of  the  year  in  teaching  the  Indians  the 
rudiments  of  an  English  education.  While  at  Dr. 
Wheelock's  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  notorious 
Brandt,  of  whom  he  afterwards  was  accustomed  to 
speak  as  a  lad  of  keen  intellectual  powers  and  well 
fitted  to  rule  the  Indians.  At  that  time,  however,  ho 
said,  he  gave  DO  indications  of  the  cruelty  that  subse- 


SETTLED     IX     VERMONT.  289 

quently  disfigured  his  character.  After  remaining  at 
Dr.  Wheelock's  two  years  he  entered  the  freshman 
class  of  Yale  College.  This  was  in  1765.  In  the 
came  class  were  the  afterwards  celebrated  Timothy 
Dwight  and  Dr.  Strong,  of  Hartford,  both  of  whom 
became  chaplains  in  the  army.  Noted  for  his  studious 
habits,  he  passed  successfully  through  the  first  two 
years  of  his  college  life.  A  portion  of  his  junior  year 
was  spent  among  the  Six  Nations  as  a  missionary.  Ho 
stood  high  in  the  estimation  of  all  who  knew  him,  and 
Avhen  he  graduated  received  with  his  baccalaureate  an 
honorary  degree  from  Dartmouth.  After  finishing  his 
collegiate  course  he  entered  on  the  study  of  divinity 
with  Dr.  Wheelock,  of  Hanover,  New  Hampshire. 
Keceiving  his  ordination  in  1773,  he  spent  a  year  or 
more  with  Dr.  Kirkland  among  the  Oneida  Indians. 
Leaving  here  he  went  to  Long  Island,  where  ho 
preached  with  much  success.  In  his  diary  kept  at  this 
time  he  says,  u  Preached  at  Sag  Harbor  a  New  Year's 
sermon.  People  solemn.  I  desire  to  begin  the  year 
with  G-od.  Lord  !  let  me  spend  and  be  spent  for 
Thee  !  Dispose  of  me  as  Thou  pleasest ;  send  me 
where  Thou  pleasest.  Let  me  have  no  will  of  my  own, 
or  let  my  will  be  Thine." 

He  afterwards  removed  to  Gaysboro,  Vermont,  whero 
he  was  settled  at  the  breaking  out  of  the  Kevolution. 
When  the  news  of  the  battle  of  Lexington  reached 
this  quiet  place  the  inhabitants  were  filled  with  the 
most  intense  excitement.  To  the  noble  smiled  pastor, 
howrever,  it  came  like  a  trumpet  call  to  the  soldier  in 
battle.     He  saw  at  once  that  the  hour  bij  with  fate  to 

13 


290  DAVID     AVERY. 

the  Colonics  had  come,  and  kindling  with  the  lofty 
patriotism  that  filled  the  hearts  of  so  many,  as  the 
tidings  of  that  first  fierce  conflict  was  borne  with  the 
tap  of  the  drum  by  swift  riders  to  the  remotest  limits 
of  the  Colonies,  he  at  once  decided  to  do  what  lay  in 
his  power  to  help  on  the  glorious  cause  of  liberty.  The 
very  next  Sabbath,  to  the  astonishment  of  his  congre- 
gation, he  preached  his  farewell  sermon,  telling  them 
that  God  would  take  care  of  them — as  for  himself  he 
was  going  to  join  the  army.  It  was  a  solemn  day  to 
all,  and  when  the  services  were  closed  each  turned 
away,  filled  with  new  thoughts,  new  fears  and  new 
hopes.  But  the  impressive  scene  was  not  yet  over,  the 
patriotic  pastor  had  no  intention  of  going  alone  to  the 
army.  He  knew  that  beside  encouragement  in  the  day 
of  trial  and  ministrations  to  the  sick,  the  wounded  and 
dying,  it  needed  stout  arms  and  good  muskets  for  the 
day  of  battle.  So  after  the  congregation  was  dismissed, 
he  stood  on  the  steps  of  the  church  and  summoned 
them  to  listen  to  another  address.  He  had  performed 
the  duties  of  the  sanctuary,  and  he  now  wished  to  per- 
form those  of  a  patriot.  He  spoke  of  the  contest  that 
had  begun — of  the  righteousness  of  their  cause,  and 
the  pressing  need  of  soldiers  if  they  would  maintain 
their  rights.  He  said  it  was  God's  cause,  and  harangu- 
ing them  like  a  propliet  of  old  summoning  the  children 
of  Israel  to  battle,  lie  earnestly  besought  them  to  lay 
off  at  once  the  trappings  of  husbandry,  and  leaving 
their  untitled  fields,  gird  on  the  weapons  of  war  and 
become  reapers  of  men,  Their  bleeding  country,  he 
said,  called  on  them  in  jdeading  accents,  and  he  en- 


MARCHES     TO     CAMBRIDGE.  291 

treated  them  by  every  motive  of  patriotism,  and  as 
they  valued  liberty  and  abhorred  slavery,  not  to  turn  a 
deaf  ear  to  her  cry.  It  was  a  noble,  soul-stirring  spec- 
tacle, that  earnest  servant  of  God  calling  on  his  parish- 
ioners to  leave  wives  and  children  and  parents  and 
follow  him  to  the  field  of  battle.  His  burning  words 
fell  on  hearts  already  on  fire  with  patriotism,  and  that 
quiet  Sabbath  day  among  the  hills  became  a  scene  of 
thrilling  excitement.  Twenty  of  his  parishioners  re- 
sponded to  his  call,  and  shouldering  their  muskets 
started  on  foot  with  him  for  Boston.  They  chose 
him  captain,  and  marching  rapidly  forward  reached 
Northampton  Saturday  night.  The  rumor  of  his 
coming  soon  spread  through  the  town,  and  next  day 
a  large  congregation  assembled  to  hear  him  preach. 
One  would  give  a  good  deal  at  this  day  to  possess  that 
sermon.  His  patriotic  fervor  was  so  contagious  that 
volunteers  came  eagerly  forward  and  enrolled  them- 
selves in  his  little  company.  In  the  meantime  the 
clergymen  in  the  vicinity  of  his  parish,  sympathizing 
deeply  with  him  in  his  devotion  to  his  country,  met 
together  and  agreed  to  supply  his  pulpit  while  he  was 
absent. 

The  little  band  kept  on  their  way,  and  on  Saturday 
the  29th  of  April  arrived  in  camp  at  Cambridge.  The 
troops  assembled  to  receive  the  "  reverend  captain  and 
his  men,"  as  they  were  called,  for  the  spirited  example 
encouraged  the  hearts  of  all.  The  next  day  being  the 
Sabbath,  a  temporary  stage  was  erected  in  the  area  of 
Cambridge  College  by  turning  up  a  rum  hogshead,  from 
which  Rev.  Dr.  Langdon,  president  of  Harvard  College, 


292  DAVID    AVERY. 

preached  a  sermon  from  1st  Timothy,  vi.  12,  "  Fight  tho 
good  fight  of  faith/'  &c.  In  the  afternoon  Mr.  Avery 
preached  from  Nehemiah,  iv.  14,  "  And  I  looked,  and 
rose  up,  and  said  unto  the  nobles  and  rulers,  and  to  the 
rest  of  the  people,  Be  not  ye  afraid  of  them.  Remem- 
ber the  Lord,  which  is  great  and  terrible,  and  fight  for 
your  brethren,  your  sons  and  your  daughters,  your 
wives  and  your  homes." 

With  such  kind  of  men  and  such  kind  of  appeals 
was  the  cause  of  freedom  upheld  and  borne  onward ; 
and  yet  this  conduct  of  Mr.  Avery  in  collecting  and 
leading  on  troops  in  person,  and  of  others  like  him, 
passes  unnoticed  or  is  merely  alluded  to  incidentally, 
while  the  action  of  town  committees  and  the  adoption 
of  patriotic  resolutions  by  civilians  receive  the  most 
earnest  consideration.  "  These  things  ought  ye  to  have 
done,  and  not  left  the  other  undone." 

Mr.  Avery,  soon  after  his  arrival  at  head-quarters, 
was  assigned  to  Col.  Sherb urn's  regiment,  in  which  ho 
instituted  a  regular  course  of  daily  religious  service. 
Besides  the  performance  of  these  public  duties  he 
used  to  go  from  tent  to  tent  and  read  the  word  of  God — 
talk  with  the  farmer-soldiers,  listen  to  their  tales  of 
distress,  and  relieve  them  whenever  in  his  power.  The 
camp  and  bustle  of  war  were  strange  to  these  men — 
they  had  come  from  quiet  homes  in  the  valleys*  and  on 
the  hill-sides,  and  from  the  family  altar  and  the  house 
of  God  ;  and  the  presence  of  such  a  minister  was  a 
comfort  and  a  blessing  that  at  this  day  we  can  not 
appreciate.  He  prayed  with  them,  and  helped  the 
youthful  to    overcome   the    temptations    that  always 


FIGHT     ON     NODDLE'S    ISLAND.  293 

surround  the  soldier,  and  boldly  rebuked  sin,  and 
strove  in  every  way  to  make  the  camp  a  camp  of  the 
Lord,  like  the  "  tents  of  Israel/1  over  which  God's 
blessing  should  hover.  He  does  not  tire  of  his  ardu- 
ous work,  but  writes  homo  that  he  is  glad  that  he  has 
espoused  the  cause  of  his  country. 

In  his  diary  he  makes  the  following  entry  : — "  May 
11th — A  provincial  fast — preached  on  Cambridge  com- 
mon, the  troops  appeared  quite  serious.  May  29th — 
Went  on  a  volunteer  expedition  to  Noddle's  Island  ; 
a  brisk  skirmish ;  some  of  our  men  killed  ;  stood 
guard  two  hours  that  night  after  praying  and  exhort- 
ing with  the  expedition/' 

This  brief  note  is  all  that  he  gives  us  to  show  what 
part  he  took  in  it.  Noddle's  Island,  near  Boston,  and 
Hog  Island  were  covered  with  hay  and  cattle,  sheep 
and  horses,  and  the  Americans  wished  to  prevent  them 
from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  So  about 
eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon  of  the  27th,  a  part}"  of 
twenty  or  thirty  men  passed  from  Chelsea  to  Hog 
Island,  and  thence  to  Noddle's  Island,  and  commenced 
driving  off  the  cattle.  The  British,  observing  it,  sent 
a  schooner  and  sloop,  with  a  party  of  marines  in  boats, 
to  capture  them.  The  Americans  seeing  them  ap- 
proach, and  finding  that  they  had  not  time  to  drive 
off  all  the  stock,  commenced  shooting  them,  and  thus 
destroyed  great  numbers.  As  the  hostile  vessels  drew 
near  they  retreated  to  Hog  Island,  and  cleared  it  of 
between  three  and  four  hundred  sheep,  and  a  largo 
number  of  cows  and  horses.  They  then  drew  up  on 
Chelsea  Neck  to  receive  the  enemy.     In  the  meantime 


294  DAVID     AVERY. 

the  American  officers  at  Cambridge  had  called  for 
volunteers  to  reinforce  the  gallant  little  band  that  had 
done  so  nobly,  and  now  stood  at  bay.  Avery,  with 
the  brave  Warren,  was  among  the  volunteers.  Put- 
nam took  command  of  the  detachment,  and  hurrying 
forward  with  two  four  pounders,  reached  the  threatened 
point  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening.  A  brisk  fire  was 
immediately  opened  on  the  vessels,  which  was  kept  up 
till  eleven,  when  the  crew  of  the  schooner  finding  it 
too  hot,  abandoned  the  contest.  The  firing  then 
ceased,  and  it  was  thought  advisable  to  make  no  fur- 
ther movement  till  day-light  should  reveal  the  position 
of  the  enemy.  Avery  took  advantage  of  the  cessation 
of  the  conflict  to  exhort  the  little  group  of  patriots, 
and  pray  with  them.  He  then  shouldered  his  musket 
and  kept  watch  for  two  hours.  At  day  break  they 
boarded  the  schooner,  and  carrying  off  four  four- 
pounders  and  twelve  swivels  set  her  on  fire.  In  this 
skirmish  the  English  lost  twenty-five  in  killed  and 
wounded,  while  the  Americans  had  only  four  wounded, 
and  those  slightly. 

In  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  as  it  is  called,  but 
which  it  is  well  known  took  place  on  Breed's  Hill,  this 
brave,  godly  man  stood  on  Bunker  Hill  in  full  Bight 
of  the  conflict,  and  as  Moses,  who  stood  on  the  hill, 
and  held  up  his  handfl  that  Joshua  might  smite  the 
Amalekites,  bo  he,  while  the  adjacent  heights  and 
shores  were  shaking  t<>  the  thunder  of  cannon,  and  the 

flames  of  burning  Charlestown  wen;  rolling  heaven- 
ward, lifted  up  his  hands  and  prayed  that  God  would 
give  victory  to  the  Americans.     Breed's  Hill,  dimly 


BURNING    OF    CHARLESTOWN.  295 

seen  through  the  rolling  smoke  of  battle,  amid  which 
flashed  the  deadly  vollies,  and  gleamed  the  glittering 
lines,  and  in  the  back-ground  this  patriotic  divine, 
with  upraised  hands  beseeching  Heaven  for  victory, 
would  make  an  appropriate  picture  of  that  bloody 
prelude  to  the  revolution.  He  thus  notes  the  event  in 
his  diary  ; — "  Early  in  the  morning  of  June  18th  the 
enemy  attacked  our  entrenchments,  but  was  driven 
back.  After  repeated  trials  they  succeeded  in  dislodg- 
ing the  troops.  In  the  retreat  many  of  Col.  Sher- 
bourne's  men  were  killed.  My  dear  friend,  Dr.  Warren, 
was  shot  dead.  I  stood  on  a  neighboring  hill  (Bunker) 
with  hands  uplifted,  supplicating  the  blessing  of  Hea- 
ven to  crown  our  unworthy  arms  with  success.  To  us 
infantile  Americans,  unused  to  the  thunder  and  car- 
nage of  battle,  the  flames  of  Charlestown  before  oui 
eyes — the  incessant  play  of  cannon  from  their  shipping 
— from  Boston,  and  their  wings  in  various  cross  direc- 
tions, together  with  the  fire  of  musketry  from  more 
than  four  times  our  number,  all  heightened  the  majes- 
tic terrors  of  the  field,  exhibiting  a  scene  most  awful 
and  tremendous,  but  amid  the  perils  of  the  dread 
encounter  the  Lord  was  our  rock  and  fortress/'' 

"  The  enemy  burned  Charlestown  that  they  might 
be  benefited  by  the  smoke/' 

The  night  that  followed  this  momentous  day  he 
spent  in  dressing  the  wounds  of  the  soldiers  and  ad- 
ministering such  spiritual  consolation  as  the  suffering 
needed.  Day  after  day  he  deyoted  himself  wholly  to 
the  wounded,  and  glided  from  cot  to  cot  cheering  the 
wretched,  and  pointing  those  who  felt  that  death  was 


296  DAVID    AVERY. 

near,  to  the  Saviour  of  sinners.  He  notes  in  his  diary 
that  the  excessive  duties  preyed  upon  his  health,  but 
expresses  the  belief  that  God  will  sustain  him. 

He  stood  near  the  great  elm  tree  when  Washington 
drew  his  sword  beneath  it  and  took  command  of  the 
Continental  army.  Not  long  after,  Dr.  Franklin  arrived 
to  make  an  examination  of  the  army  by  order  of  Con- 
gress, and  Mr.  Avery  being  introduced  to  him,  a  warm 
affection  sprung  up  between  the  two,  which  lasted  till 
death.  His  zeal  and  patriotism  made  him  a  j^rominent 
man  in  the  army,  and  Washington  often  invited  him  to 
dine  at  head  quarters.  He  was  frequently  detailed  at 
his  own  request  to  accompany  expeditions  into  the  ad- 
jacent country,  for  he  courted  toil  and  hardship  in  the 
cause  which  lay  so  near  his  heart.  He  stood  in  the 
ranks  on  Dorchester  Heights,  the  morning  after  they 
had  been  occupied,  and  when  he  saw  the  British  ships 
heave  their  anchors  and  move  down  the  bay,  his  ex- 
ultation burst  all  bounds,  and  he  exclaimed  trium- 
phantly, "Give  God  the  praise,  for  He  hath  done  it." 
When  the  army  took  up  its  march  for  New  York  he 
accompanied  it,  and  saw  with  a  breaking  heart  the  de- 
feat of  the  Americans  at  the  battle  of  Long  Island. 
After  it  was  over  he  devoted  all  his  time  to  the  sick, 
caring  for  their  wants  and  praying  with  them  ;  and 
many  a  soul  i>assed  from  earth  on  the  prayers  of  this 
good  man. 

lie  was  beside  Washington  in  his  melancholy  retreat 
through  the  Jerseys,  and  says,  "  The  lustre  of  our  com- 
mander's presence  and  magnanimity  gave  a  charm  to 
our  gloomy  misfortunes — it  animated  and  raised  our 


WINTER    AT    VALLEY    FORGE.  2C7 

spirits  above  the  power  of  undue  fear.  The  people  of 
the  country,  however,  were  not  so  happily  fortified 
against  the  shock  of  this  sudden  change  of  affairs,  and 
sunk  dejected/'  He  accompanied  him  in  his  march  on 
Trenton — breasted  the  snow  and  hail  like  the  common 
soldier  that  wintry  morning,  and  when  the  thunder  of 
cannon  and  rattle  of  musketry  awakened  the  sleeping 
Hessians,  marched  with  him  into  the  thickest  of  the 
fight.  Feeling  how  fearful  was  the  crisis  that  had 
come,  he,  after  lifting  an  invocation  to  God,  seized  the 
musket  of  a  soldier  that  fell  by  his  side,  and  mounting 
a  rum  hogshead  that  stood  in  the  street,  the  contents 
of  which  had  helped  to  deepen  the  slumbers  of  the  foe 
on  that  Christmas  eve,  fired  away  at  the  confused 
and  hurrying  masses  of  the  enemy.  In  the  darkness 
and  tumult  of  the  fight  he  received  a  contusion  on  the 
right  hip,  which  laid  him  up  for  several  weeks  ;  and  he 
who  had  so  long  ministered  to  others  was  compelled  to 
be  ministered  unto.  On  his  recovery  he  rejoined  the 
army,  and  shared  with  the  soldier  the  battles  and 
marches  that  followed.  He  hutted  with  it  at  Valley 
Forge  during  all  that  terrible  winter  in  which  troops 
furnished  an  example  of  devotion  to  their  general  and 
a  love  of  country  that  has  no  parallel  in  history — nobly 
sustained  the  courage  of  the  men,  and  showed  a  spirit 
of  self-devotion  that  called  forth  the  warmest  commen- 
dations. Like  Washington,  he  seemed  superior  to  the 
weakness  of  common  mortals,  and  exhibited  the  same 
serene  courage,  and  wore  the  same  calm  aspect  in  that 
dark  hour,  which  filled  others  with  despondency,  that 
ho  did  when  every  thing  was  promising  and  hopeful. 


298  DAVID     AVERY. 

He  was  awhile  attached  to  the  northern  army,  and 
worked  with  his  own  hands  in  building  those  fortifica- 
tions at  Ticonderoga  that  afterwards  fell  before  the 
advancing  legions  of  Burgoyne. 

On  his  retain  he  was  warmly  received  by  Washing- 
ton, who  saw  in  him  the  embodiment  of  all  those 
qualities  he  wished  in  a  chaplain.  Intrepid  and  fear- 
less in  battle,  unwearied  in  his  attentions  to  the  sick 
and  wounded — not  only  nursing  them  with  care,  but  as 
faithful  to  their  souls  as  though  they  were  members  of 
his  own  parish — with  a  love  for  his  country  so  strong 
that  it  became  a  passion — cheerful  under  privations, 
and  ready  for  any  hardship — never  losing  in  the  tur- 
moil of  the  camp  that  warm  and  glowing  piety  which 
characterizes  the  devoted  minister  of  God — he  might 
well  have  a  place  near  to  his  great  chieftain's  heart. 

During  this  period  wre  find  him  detached  from  Sher- 
bourne's  regiment  and  joined  to  that  of  Colonel  Pat- 
terson. 

He  knew  Arnold  well,  and  was  very  active  in  the 
efforts  made  to  capture  him.  He  was  by  the  side  of 
"Washington  when  he  signed  the  death  warrant  of 
Andre,  and  saw  that  ill-fated  officer  hung  on  the  hill 
behind  Piermont. 

In  every  battle  he  bore  himself  so  nobly  that  his 
conduct  elicited  universal  admiration,  while  his  devo- 
tion to  the  wounded  after  it  was  over  won  the  hearts 
of  both  friends  and  foes.  At  the  battle  of  P>ennington, 
like  the  good  parson  Allen,  he  exposed  himself  to  the 
hottest  of  the  file,  yet  he  refers  to  it  only  to  say,  "The 
arm  of  the  Lord  protected  me  through  dangers  seen 


SETTLED     AT     BENNINGTON.  299 

and  unseen/'  For  his  services  in  and  after  this  bloody 
engagement,  he  received  a  vote  of  thanks  from  the 
Governor  and  Council  of  the  State. 

After  the  Avar  was  over,  we  find  him  quietly  settled 
in  Bennington,  gladly  exchanging  the  turmoil  of  the 
camp  and  the  horrors  of  war  for  the  more  congenial 
pursuits  of  a  pastor. 

Thus  having  nobly  helped  to  wrest  the  land  from 
the  hand  of  tyranny,  he  sat  down  under  the  tree  of 
liberty,  and  faithful  in  his  parish  as  he  had  been  in  the 
field,  passed  peacefully  on  to  a  tranquil  death,  and  the 
reward  of  the  true  patriot  and  faithful  minister  of 
Christ. 


CHAPTER     XXX. 

ISRAEL    EVANS. 

His  Character. —Ordained  Chaplain  in*  the  Abut.— Remains  with  Tns  Nh\t 
Hampshire  Brigade  through  the  War. — Stands  beside  Washington  at 
Yorktown. — Anecdote  of  Him  and  Washington. — His  Sermon  on  the  Field 
of  Battle. — Settled  at  Concord,  New  Hampshire. — II is  Death. 

There  is  perhaps  no  chaplain  of  the  Revolution 
who  followed  its  fortunes  so  steadily  from  its  com- 
mencement to  its  close,  sharing  all  its  perils  and  its 
hardships,  yet  about  whom  so  little  is  known,  as  the 
subject  of  this  sketch.  He  was  a  native  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  at  the  commencement  of  the  struggle  be- 
tween the  Colonies  and  Great  Britain  was  a  warm, 
uncompromising  patriot.  Having  chosen  his  profes- 
sion before  the  breaking  out  of  hostilities,  he  did  not 
consider  it  his  duty  to  relinquish  it,  though  from  what 
is  known  of  his  character  there  is  but  little  doubt  that, 
had  he  been  an  ordinary  citizen,  he  would  have  entered 
the  army  as  a  soldier.  lie  was  by  nature  better  fitted 
for  the  stern  duties  of  a  military  life,  its  strict  sub- 
ordination and  exact  method,  and  for  the  battle  field, 
than  for  the  quiet  routine  of  a  pastor's  calling.  Hu- 
mility was  not  a  prominent  trait  in  his  character,  and 
the  exactitude  and  unbending  rules  of  his  military 
experience  did  not  tend  to  make  him  yielding  and 
tractable. 

When  the  war   commenced   he   offered    himself  as 


BEFORE    YORKTOWN,  301 

chaplain  to  the  army,  and  was  ordained  as  such  in 
1776,  in  Philadelphia,  at  the  age  of  twenty-nine. 
From  1777  to  the  close  of  the  war  he  was  attached 
the  whole  time  to  the  New  Hampshire  brigade.  Of 
the  fierce  battles  he  witnessed,  the  long  marches  he 
made,  and  want  and  privation  he  endured,  he  apparently 
kept  no  record  ;  and  hence  the  incidents  and  details  of 
this  most  interesting  portion  of  his  life  are  forever  lost 
to  posterity.  We  catch  a  glimpse  of  him  in  the  fierce 
conflicts  at  Saratoga,  hear  his  voice  as  he  addresses  the 
western  army  after  their  return  from  the  expedition 
against  the  Indians,  sympathize  with  him  as  he  pours 
his  sad  lament  over  the  body  of  his  dead  commander, 
Gen.  Poor,  at  Hackensack, — but  all  between  has  been 
swept  by  the  wave  of  oblivion.  He  not  only  shared 
the  sufferings  of  the  army  at  Valley  Forge,  but  was 
of  great  service  in  encouraging  and  cheering  the  sol- 
diers when  ready  to  yield  to  despair.  His  imperturba- 
ble coolness  in  battle  was  proverbial,  and  he  rather 
sought  than  shunned  the  post  of  danger. 

At  the  battle  of  Yorktown  he  was  standing  beside 

o 

Washington  when  a  cannon  ball  in  full  sweep  struck 
the  earth  at  his  very  feet  and  sent  a  shower  of  dirt 
over  his  hat.  Washington  glanced  at  the  chaplain  to 
see  how  he  took  it,  but  the  latter  was  as  imperturbable 
as  himself.  Without  stirring  from  the  spot,  he  took 
off  his  hat,  and  seeing  it  covered  with  sand,  said  qui- 
etly as  he  held  it  up,  "  See  here,  General/'  Washing- 
ington  smiled  and  replied,  "  Mr.  Evans,  you  had  better 
take  that  home  arid  show  it  to  your  icife  cuid  children." 
The  chaplain  smiled  in  return,  and  replacing  it  on  his 


302  ISRAEL    B  V  A  JT  s . 

head  turned  his  attention  once  more  to  the  cannonade 
that  was  shaking  the  field  like  an  earthquake. 

After  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis  he  preached  a 
sermon  in  the  open  air  to  the  assembled  brigade,  tak- 
ing the  one  hundred  and  fifteenth  Psalm  for  his  text, 
beginning,  "Not  unto  us,  0  Lord,  not  unto  us,  but 
unto  thy  name  give  glory  for  thy  mercy  and  for  thy 
truth's  sake.  Wherefore  should  the  heathen  say,  where 
is  now  their  God. 

But  our  God  is  in  the  heavens,  He  hath  done  what- 
soever He  pleased." 

After  tracing  the  hand  of  God  from  the  commence- 
ment of  the  struggle  through  all  the  changing  fortunes 
that  followed,  he  bursts  into  thanksgiving  for  the  glo- 
rious victory  they  had  just  achieved,  and  exclaims  : — 
"  For  these  and  innumerable  instances  of  public  mercy 
we  desire  most  heartily  to  praise  God;  and  say,  c  Not 
unto  us,  0  Lord,  not  unto  the  wisdom  of  our  counsel- 
ors, though  their  counsels  and  wisdom  have  surpassed 
our  most  sanguine  expectations.  Not  unto  our  com- 
manders and  armies,  though  they  have  behaved  them- 
selves so  valiantly,  and  conducted  wisely — yet  give 
glory  not  unto  them  but  unto  the  name  of  God,  for 
He  it  was  who  taught  our  Senators  wrisdom,  and  girded 
our  soldiers  with  courage  and  strength.  It  is  the 
Lord  our  God  who  has  fought  for  us  in  every  success- 
ful battle,  and  has  hitherto  supported  our  righteous 
cause  against  those  who  hate  us  without  any  just  rea- 
son. Surely,  we  may  say,  0  sing  unto  the  Lord  a  new 
song,  for  lie  hath  done  marvellous  things,  His  right 
hand  and  His  holy  arm  hath  gotten  Him  the.  victory. 


SERMON     AFTER     VICTORY.  303 

The  Lord  hath  made  known  his  salvation,  His  right- 
eousness hath  he  openly  showed  in  the  sight  of  our 
enemies.  He  hath  remembered  His  mercy  toward  us. 
All  the  ends  of  the  earth  shall  sac  the  salvation  of  our 
God/'  He  thanks  God  for  the  aid  of  the  French — for 
giving  us  good  men  in  Congress,  and  then  exclaims, 
u  Oh  give  thanks  to  the  Lord  our  God  for  our  "brave 
General,  the  Commander-in-chief  of  all  our  armies. 
A  General  possessed  of  such  unparalleled  fortitude  and 
patience,  and  not  more  patient  than  meek,  and  virtu- 
ous, and  humane.  And  if  I  may  be  permitted  to  say 
any  thing  of  a  character  which  so  much  outshines  the 
brightest  encomium  that  writers  can  offer,  I  will  ven- 
ture to  say  that  if  you  search  for  faults  in  the  conduct 
of  that  true  patriot  and  most  excellent  hero,  you  will 
find  none  unless  you  call  it  a  fault  to  exercise  compas- 
sion and  lenity  toward  those  negligent  and  guilty 
offenders,  who,  by  their  sloth  and  inattention  to  the 
best  orders,  counteract  the  wisest  plans,  and  frustrate 
the  best  schemes  of  military  discipline  and  policy. 

"  Methinks  I  see  the  illustrious  Washington,  wTith  but 
two  or  three  thousand  men  retreating  indeed  before 
ten  or  twelve  thousand  of  the  enemy,  but  checking 
their  progress  through  the  country,  and  when  reinforc- 
ed by  the  brave  militia,  turning  upon  the  enemy,  kill- 
ing some,  capturing  many,  and  confining  them  during 
the  whole  winter  within  narrow  bounds.  Oh,  Ameri- 
cans, give  glory  to  God  for  such  a  faithful  hero  !  Then 
you  saw  him  greatest  when  most  without  your  aid. 
Collected  himself  he  greatly  resolved  with  his  few 
faithful  followers  to  be  the  barrier  of  liberty  or  fall  in 


304  ISRAEL    EVANS. 

its  defence.11  He  then  speaks  of  Saratoga,  describes 
Arnold  as  a  thunderbolt  on  that  day,  and  winds  up  by 

referring  to  the  coming  winter,  which  may  demand 
great  sacrifices,  and  exhorts  them  not  to  be  startled  by 
anticipated  Bufferings,  but  bear  all  like  men,  and  to 
refrain  from  profane  swearing  and  all  ungodly  acts,  and 
live  the  lives  of  true  Christians. 

It  was  a  thrilling  spectacle — that  war-worn  chaplain 
standing  on  the  bloody  field  of  Yorktown — the  wreck 
of  the  fight  strewn  all  around  him,  and  lifting  his 
peans  of  praise  to  Washington,  and  his  shout  of 
thanksgiving  to  God.  The  excited  soldiers,  fresh  from 
the  field  of  their  fame,  and  elated  with  their  great 
victory,  could  scarcely  refrain  from  sending  up  their 
thrilling  huzzas  when  the  eloquent  chaplain,  passing 
from  his  review  of  the  troubled  past,  burst  forth  into 
an  eulogium  of  their  gallant  leader. 

He  published  several  of  his  sermons  after  the  war, 
all  of  which  exhibit  his  stern,  unyielding  patriotism. 

In  1789  he  was  ordained  pastor  of  the  church  in 
Concord,  to  which  he  became  known  by  his  connection 
with  the  New  Hampshire  brigade. 

His  military  career  did  not  tend  to  make  him  the 
most  conciliating  of  pastors,  and  in  1797  he  resigned 
his  charge,  though  he  continued  to  reside  in  the  place 
till  his  death;  in  March,  1807,  in  the  sixtieth  year  of 
his  age. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

COTTON  MATHER  SMITH. 

IIl8  BlRTII  AND  PARENTAGE. — .V  TEACHER  AMONG  THE  INDIANS.— STUDIES  TlIEOL- 

ogv. — Is  Settled  at  Sharon,  Conn. — Influence  of  the  Clergy  ok  Connect- 
icut IN  BRINGING  ABOUT  THE  INVOLUTION. — 1 1  IS  VIEW!  OF  THE  STRUGGLE 
BETWEEN  THE  COLONIES  AND  MOTHER    COUNTRY. — TlIE    PART    HE    TOOK    IN    IT. — 

Patriotism    of   his   Congregation. — Is  made  Chaplain,   and   Marches  to 

TlCONDEROGA. — HlS  DEVOTION  TO  THE  SlCK. — SEIZED  WITH  THE  C\MP   FEVER. — 

Returns  Home. — Invasion  of  Burgoyne. — His  Sermon  just  before  the 
Final  Victory  at  Saratoga. — Thrilling  Scene. — His  Character. — II13 
Death. 

Cotton  Mather  Smith  was  born  in  Suffield,  Conn., 
Oct.  26th,  1731.  His  father  was  grandson  of  Rev. 
Henry  Smith,  and  his  mother  grand-daughter  of  the 
celebrated  Increase  Mather.  He  graduated  at  Yale 
College  in  1751,  after  which  he  went  to  Hatfield  for  a 
while,  where  he  made  a  public  profession  of  religion, 
and  immediately  turned  his  attention  to  the  ministry. 
Before,  however,  he  finished  his  course  of  theological 
studies  he  accepted  an  invitation  to  take  charge  of  a 
school  among  the  Indians  in  Stockbridge,  Mass.  Dr. 
Sprague,  in  his  "  Annals  of  the  American  Pulpit," 
says  of  him  in  connection  with  this  novel  enterprise, 
"  He  engaged  in  it  with  great  zeal,  and  by  his  amiable 
and  winning  manners,  and  especially  by  mingling  with 
the  Indians  in  their  athletic  sports,  he  acquired  a 
commanding  influence  over  them,  and  brought  them 
entirely  within  his  control.  He  labored  for  them  with 
untiring  diligence  and  with  corresponding  success,  and 


306  COTTON     MATHER     SMITH. 

became  a  proficient  in  their  language,  while  imparting 
to  them  a  knowledge  of  his  own/' 

After  completing  his  engagement  he  returned  to 
Hatfield  and  resumed  his  theological  studies.  He  was 
licensed  to  preach  in  1753,  and  two  years  after  settled 
over  the  church  of  Sharon,  Conn.,  and  continued  its 
pastor  through  a  long  and  useful  life.  A  distinguished 
descendant  of  Rev.  Mr.  Smith  in  furnishing  me  the 
materials  for  this  sketch,  prefaces  them  with  such  forci- 
ble and  true  remarks  on  the  "  influence  of  the  clergy 
of  Connecticut  in  making  that  little  State  take  tho 
gallant  stand  she  did  in  the  revolution/'  that  I  quote 
them  entire.  After  showing  that  she  might  well  bo 
called  the  "  Laced;emon  of  the  confederation,  since 
that,  small  as  she  was,  she  furnished  thirty-one  thou- 
sand six  hundred  troops,  or  five  thousand  more  than 
Virginia  and  Pennsylvania,  and  far  more  than  New 
York,"  and  that  although  she  "  had  a  hundred  miles 
of  exposed  sea  coast,  only  three  plundering  expeditions 
ever  contaminated  her  soil,  and  these  made  no  perma- 
nent occupation,"  and  after  speaking  of  tho  gallantry  of 
her  sons  at  Bunker  Hill,  in  covering  the  retreat-— their 
efforts  in  capturing  "  Ticonderoga  with  more  than  two 
hundred  cannon  that  proved  of  sueh  vital  importance 
to  the  American  cause  in  the  siege  of  Boston  " — of  h(  r 
brave  spirits,  such  as  Knowlton  and  II  lie,  and  others, 
early  martyrs  to  liberty — so  well  calculated  to  arouse 
her  energy  and  kindle  her  heroism,  he  says,  "  But  the 
most  powerful  element  of  revolutionary  strength  in 
Connecticut  was  her  Congregational  clergy,  and  the 
opinion  may  be  expressed  without  fear  of  contradic- 


NEW    ENGLAND     CLERGY,  307 

tion,  that  to  no  class  or  order  of  men  is  the  country  so 
much  indebted  for  its  national  independence.  Had 
they  preached  a  slavish  and  cowardly  submission  to 
the  royal  will — had  they  declared  it  to  be  the  first  of 
duties  to  honor  the  King,  we  should  to-day  have  been 
royal  colonists  of  the  British  crown. 

"  The  immense  influence  of  the  clergy  for  the  first 
century  and  a  half  is  alike  honorable  to  them  and  to 
the  people.  Most  of  them  who  first  emigrated  into  the 
country  wrere  gentlemen  of  family  and  station,  and  had 
good  estates,  which  they  freely  spent  in  assisting  their 
poor  brethren  and  parishioners  in  the  numerous  diffi- 
culties of  making  new  settlements.  They  possessed  a 
great  proportion  of  the  literature  of  the  colony,  and 
were  the  instructors  of  the  flower  of  its  youth.  They 
had  given  a  striking  evidence  of  their  integrity  and 
self-denial  in  emigrating  from  their  pleasaut  homes 
into  this  distant  land  for  the  sake  of  religious  liberty, 
and  their  people  reverenced  them  as  exiles  and  fellow- 
sufferers  for  the  dearest  of  causes.  No  wonder  that  all 
these  circumstances  combined  to  give  them  an  uncom- 
mon influence  over  their  hearers  of  every  rank  and 
character.  No  wonder  that  the  governors  and  mag- 
istrates and  leading  men  of  the  land  deemed  them 
worthy  of  all  honor.  They  were  consulted  by  the 
legislature  in  all  affairs  of  consequence,  civil  and 
religious,  and  with  civilians  were  appointed  on  com- 
mittees to  advise  and  assist  them  in  the  most  delicate 
and  important  concerns  of  the  commonwealth. 

"With  but  little  variation  this  continued  down  to 
the  epoch  of  the  Revolution,  and  in  all  the  preparatory 


303  COTTON      MATHER      SMITH. 

movements  towards  the  mighty  struggle  it  was  the  in- 
fluence of  her  clergy  more  than  any  thing  else  that 
caused  the  colony  of  Connecticut  to  act  in  one  united 
and  harmonious  phalanx.  To  the  tyrannical  edicts  of 
the  throne,  and  the  bitter  and  barbarous  threats  of  the 
lords  and  bishops  in  the  English  Parliament,  they 
responded  from  every  pulpit,  '  Down  with  Amalek/ 
i  The  sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon/  i  Be  strong, 
that  ye  be  not  servants  ;  quit  yourselves  like  men,  and 
fight/  It  was  owing  to  the  clergy  that  New  England 
was  not  infested  with  tories  like  other  provinces/' 

Of  the  twenty  years  of  his  parochial  life — filled  up 
with  usefulness — of  his  labors  abundantly  blessed — of 
his  kindly  charities  and  devotion  to  the  interests  of  his 
people,  the  limits  of  this  sketch  will  not  allow  me  to 
speak.  As  an  instance  of  his  self-sacrificing  spirit,  it 
is  necessary  only  to  mention  that  once  when  the  small- 
pox devastated  his  parish  he  never  took  off  his  clothes 
for  nearly  three  weeks,  so  untiring  was  his  attendance 
on  the  sick. 

The  crisis  which  the  battle  of  Lexington  precipitated 
had  long  been  foreseen  by  Mr.  Smith.  He  had  watched 
the  slow  gathering  of  the  clouds  on  the  political  hori- 
zon and  knew  what  they  portended.  Feeling  that  a 
struggle  between  the  Colonies  and  mother  country  was 
inevitable,  he  was  not  one  of  those  who  believed  it 
would  result  simply  in  a  redress  of  grievances  and  a 
restoration  of  the  old  relations.  He  knew  the  first  re- 
sort to  arms  would  rouse  the  old  Puritan  blood  to  a 
pitch  of  excitement  that  would  make  the  restraints  of 
loyalty  like  threads  of  gossamer,  and  he  therefore  for  a 


nis     FORESIGHT.  303 

long  time  previous  to  it,  by  his  pen,  in  private  conver- 
sation and  in  the  pulpit,  gradually  educated  his  con- 
gregation into  the  belief  that  when  the  Colonies  should 
rise  in  defence  of  their  rights  nothing  short  of  a  total 
separation  and  a  national  independence  must  be  looked 
for.  Fearful  as  such  an  issue  seemed,  he  did  not  speak 
of  it  despondingly,  but  with  high  courage"  and  firm 
faith.  Not  only  was  his  pen  as  well  as  tongue  devoted 
to  the  cause  of  freedom  in  the  way  of  essays,  arguments 
and  addresses,  but  being  gifted  with  poetic  talent  he  is 
supposed  to  have  composed  some  of  those  spirit- 
stirring  odes  with  which  his  congregation  were  wont  at 
times  to  make  the  hills  of  Sharon  ring. 

"Let  tyrants  shake  their  iron  rod, 

And  slavery  clank  her  galling  chains, 
We  fear  them  not,  we  trust  in  God, 
New  England's  God  forever  reigns," 

would  peal  through  the  old  meeting  house  till  the 
rafters  shook  with  the  lofty  strain. 

At  the  time  the  battle  of  Lexington  took  place  Mr. 
Smith's  parish  contained  two  thousand  souls.  This 
number,  according  to  the  usual  estimate,  would  give 
about  four  hundred  men  capable  of  bearing  arms,  and 
wre  find  when  the  news  of  the  battle  reached  the  town 
four  hundred  enrolled  themselves  in  the  militia,  most 
of  whom  saw  more  or  less  service  during  the  war. 

Ticonderoga  being  captured  by  Connecticut  troops, 
it  was  natural  she  should  take  pride  in  maintaining  it. 
Hence,  in  1775,  a  detachment  of  militia  of  the  State 
was  sent  to  garrison  it,  and  operate  under  Schuyler, 


310  COTTON      MATHER      SMITH. 

who  had  command  in  Lake  Champlain.  The  General 
Assembly  appointed  Mr.  Smith  its  chaplain,  and 
he  marched  with  the  troops  to  the  theatre  of  war. 
Though  unused  to  a  rough  life,  he  endured  cheerfully  all 
the  hardships  of  the  long  march  through  the  wilderness, 
and  during  the  rigorous  campaign  that  followed  shared 
with  the  common  soldier  his  privations  and  self-denials. 
On  the  desolate  shores  of  that  forest-bound  lake  he 
gave  himself  up  to  his  work  with  an  earnestness  and 
untiring  zeal  that  extorted  the  admiration  of  men  and 
officers,  and  won  the  lasting  affection  of  General 
Schuyler.  Preaching  was  but  a  small  part  of  his 
labors.  He  was  in  constant  attendance  on  the  sick, 
and  moved  like  a  good  angel  among  the  farmers  and 
mechanics  who  composed  the  militia,  encouraging  the 
down-hearted,  and  infusing  hope  and  cheerfulness 
where  despondency  and  sadness  reigned. 

lie,  however,  overestimated  his  powers  of  endurance, 
and  towards  the  end  of  the  campaign  was  seized 
with  the  putrid  or  camp  fever,  which  brought  him  to 
death's  door.  But  his  good  constitution  at  length 
triumphed,  though  for  a  long  while  he  either  lay 
helpless  or  was  able  only  to  creep  around  the  fortress. 
Finding  himself  a  confirmed  invalid,  he  was  compelled, 
to  his  great  regret  ;  to  leave  the  army,  and  returned  to 
his  parish.  Although  he  soon  afterwards  resumed  his 
parochial  duties,  he  never  fully  recovered  from  the 
effects  of  this  terrible  illness.  It  did  not,  however, 
quench  the  fire  of  his  patriotism,  and  he  saw  that 
every  draft  for  men,  money  and  provisions  made  on 
his   parish   was   promptly   met.      When  the   news   of 


COX  FIDE  XT     OF     VICTORY.  311 

Burgoyne's  formidable  invasion  filled  the  land  with  so 
much  dread,  he  appealed  to  the  patriotism  of  his  con- 
gregation, and  urged  them  to  rally  en  masse  to  the  call 
of  New  York  for  volunteers. 

Instead  of  sharing  in  the  general  despondency  he 
spoke  of  sure  victory,  and  told  them  the  time  had  now 
come  to  do  or  die,  and  if  every  man  put  his  shoulder 
to  the,  work,  God  would  make  bare  his  arm  for  the 
deliverance  of  His  people.  His  hearers  caught  his 
spirit,  and  seizing  their  fire-locks,  streamed  toward  the 
northern  wilderness.  So  universal  was  the  patriotic 
response,  that  every  man  in  the  parish  capable  of  bear- 
ing arms  volunteered  ;  and  the  good  pastor  found  his 
congregation  composed  only  of  old  men,  women,  and 
children.  It  brought  tears  to  many  eyes  as  they  look- 
ed over  the  half-filled  pews,  in  which  not  an  erect, 
manly  form  was  visible,  when  "  the  absent "  were  re- 
membered in  the  fervent  prayers  of  the  pastor. 

At  length  the  news  of  the  drawn  battle  of  the  19th 
of  September  was  received.  Then  followed  the  long 
and  anxious  interval  between  it  and  the  final  conflict 
of  the  7th  of  October,  during  which  the  countrv  was 
in  a  state  of  the  most  painful  suspense.  The  next 
breeze  that  swept  from  the  north  might  bring  the  news 
of  the  overthrow  of  the  American  army.  The  fears 
as  to  the  final  result  were  greatly  increased  by  the 
knowledge  that  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  at  New  York,  was 
fitting  out  a  formidable  expedition  to  force  the  pas- 
sage of  the  Hudson,  and  effect  a  junction  with  Bur- 
goyne,  at  Albany.     Should  this  succeed,  the  struggle 


312  COTTON    KATHEB    SMITH. 

to  all  human  appearance  would  be  over,  and  tlic  sun 
of  liberty  set. 

The  summer  verdure  slowly  changed  to  its  autumnal 
tints,  and  October  spread  its  dreamy  atmosphere  over 
the  mountains,  and  robed  woods  and  fields  with  the 
untold  glories  of  the  dying  year,  yet  an  ominom 
silence  brooded  over  the  north.  The  crisis  still  delayed, 
and  the  hours,  so  big  with  the  fate  of  the  colonies, 
dragged  wearily  on,  yet  strong  prayers  ascended  the 
heavens  daily  and  nightly  for  the  untried  farmers  and 
mechtnics,  who,  in  their  homely  apparel,  were  standing 
resolutely  in  the  Britons'  path.  Nothing  was  thought 
of  but  the  coming  battle,  and  at  the  first  dawn  of 
morning  and  in  the  last  twilight  of  evening,  anxious 
eyes  were  strained  along  the  road,  down  which  the 
messenger  of  good  or  evil  tidings  would  come. 

While  public  feeling  was  in  this  state  of  painful 
excitement,  Mr.  Smith,  one  Sabbath  day,  took  for  his 
text  a  part  of  Isaiah,  xxi,  11,  12  :  "  Watch  ma?2,  what 
of  the  night?  The  icatchmmi  said.  The  morninj 
comdh."  The  question  in  the  first  part  of  this  pas- 
sage had  been  the  daily,  almost  hourly,  mental  inquiry 
for  nearly  a  month  of  every  one  of  that  congregation, 
and  hence  its  appropriateness  was  keenly  felt,  but  the 
startling  announcement,  "  the  morning  cometh,"  took 
them  by  surprise,  and  they  could  not  at  first  compre- 
hend its  significance,  or  how  it  could  be  adapted  to  the 
present  gloomy  prospect.  Had  he  heard  any  good 
11  >ws  ?  What  had  happened  that  he  could  say  so 
confidently,  "the  morning  cometh!"  No,  he  had 
nothing  new  to  tell  them,  only  to  proclaim  over  again 


BOLD    PROPHECY.  313 

his  unshaken  confidence  in  God's  promises.  He  did 
not  attempt  to  conceal  or  lessen  the  calamities  that 
had  befallen  the  country,  nor  deny  that  a  fearful  crisis 
was  at  hand.  He  acknowledged  that  to  human  ap- 
pearance "  clouds  and  darkness  were  round  about 
God's  throne/'  but  said  that  the  eye  of  faith  could 
pierce  the  gloom.  The  throne  was  there,  though  wrap- 
ped in  impenetrable  darkness.  In  all  the  disasters  that 
had  successively  overwhelmed  them,  he  traced  the  hand 
of  God,  and  declared  that  to  his  mind  they  clearly  in- 
dicated some  striking  interposition  of  divine  providence 
about  to  take  place  in  their  behalf.  "  Man's  extremity 
wras  God's  opportunity."  Our  extremity  had  come, 
and  now  was  the  time  for  Him  "  to  make  bare  His 
arm  for  the  deliverance  of  His  people." 

Prophet-like,  kindling  with  the  vision  on  which  the 
eye  of  his  faith  rested,  he  boldly  dropped  the  general 
Bubject  of  God's  faithfulness,  and  told  his  astonished 
hearers  that  he  believed  they  were  on  the  point  of 
hearing  extraordinary  news  of  victory  to  our  arms. 
He  would  not  wait  for  an  indefinite  future  to  prove 
his  faith  to  be  well  founded — he  was  willing  to  bring 
it  to  the  test  of  the  present.  They  might  judge 
whether  he  was  right  or  wrong,  for,  said  he,  "  '  The 
morning  now  cometh!  I  see  its  beams  already  gilding 
the  mountain  tops,  and  you  shall  soon  behold  its 
brightness  bursting  over  all  the  land."  One  cannot 
imagine  at  this  day  the  effect  of  such  language  uttered 
by  the  minister  of  God  in  such  a  time  of  doubt  and 
anxiety  and  suspense.  He  ceased,  and  as  he  closed  the 
Bible;  and  exclaimed,  "  Amen  !  so  let  it  be,"  a  silence 

U 


314  COTTON     MATHER     SMITH. 

profound  and  death-like  rested  on  the  audience.  Each 
one  seemed  to  feel  as  if  an  invisible  presence  was  there 
and  some  weighty  announcement  was  at  hand.  Sud- 
denly the  deep  hush  was  broken  by  the  distant  clatter 
of  a  horse's  hoofs  along  the  road.  The  sharp  and  rapid 
strokes  told  of  fierce  riding  and  of  urgent  haste.  They 
knew  at  once  what  it  meant.  For  days  and  weeks  their 
eyes  had  strained  up  the  street  that  led  northward  to 
catch  sight  of  the  messenger  of  good  or  evil  tidings  that 
was  hourly  expected.  lie  had  come  at  last,  and  as 
nearer,  clearer,  rang  the  sound  of  that  wild  gallop  on 
the  listening  ear,  each  one  looked  in  mute  and  earnest 
inquiry  into  his  neighbor's  face.  Eight  on  through  the 
place,  straight  for  the  meeting  house,  darted  the  swift 
rider,  and  drawing  rein  at  the  door  leaped  from  the 
saddle,  and  leaving  his  foam-covered  steed  untended, 
strode  into  the  main  aisle.  On  the  deep  silence  that 
filled  the  building,  like  a  sensible  presence,  his  armed 
heel  rang  like  the  blows  of  a  hammer.  As  he  passed 
along,  a  sudden  paleness  spread  over  the  crowd  of  faces 
turned  with  a  painful  eagerness  towards  him.  But 
looking  neither  to  the  right  hand  nor  the  left,  the  dread 
messenger  passed  on,  and  mounting  the  pulpit  stairs 
handed  the  pastor  a  letter.  Notwithstanding  the  good 
man's  faith,  his  hand  trembled  and  an  ashy  hue  over- 
spread his  face  as  he  reached  out  to  receive  it.  M  Bur- 
GOYffl  has  surrendered"  were  the  first  words  that 
met  his  eye.  He  staggered  under  them  as  under  a 
blow.  The  next  moment  a  radiance  like  that  of  the 
morning  broke  over  his  countenance,  and  he  burst  into 
tears.     Hising  to  read  the  incredible  tidings,  such  a 


HIS  PERSONAL  APPEARANCE.     315 

tide  of  emotion  flooded  his  heart  that  he  could  scarcely 
utter  them  aloud.  The  audience  sat  for  a  moment 
overwhelmed  and  stupefied,  then,  as  their  pastor  folded 
his  hands  and  turned  his  eyes  toward  heaven  in  thank- 
ful prayer,  impelled  by  a  simultaneous  movement  they 
fell  like  one  man  on  their  knees  and  wept  aloud.  Sobs, 
sighs  and  fervidly  murmured  "amens"  were  heard  on 
every  side,  attesting  the  depth  of  their  gratitude  and 
the  ecstasy  of  their  joy.  "  The  morning  had  come/' 
bright  and  glorious,  and  its  radiance  filled  all  the 
heavens. 

The  arrival  of  such  news  at  the  close  of  that  sermon 
was  a  strange  coincidence,  but  the  Revolution  is  a  his- 
tory of  just  such  coincidences. 

Mr.  Smith  was  somewhat  above  the  medium  height, 
of  graceful  bearing  and  an  attractive  personal  presence. 
Dr.  Bobbins,  of  Hartford,  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Sprague, 
said  of  him  :  "  His  manners  were  remarkably  polished, 
so  that  he  might  have  appeared  to  advantage  even  in  a 
court.  They  were  a  delightful  compound  of  simplicity, 
gracefulness  and  dignity  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
they  were  entirely  free  from  hauteur  or  ostentation,  and 
he  could  make  the  humblest  man  in  the  community 
feel  at  home  in  his  company.  In  his  intercourse  with 
his  people  and  with  society  at  large  he  was  distinguished 
for  his  prudence — he  never  performed  an  act  or  uttered 
a  word  that  wras  fitted  needlessly  to  wound  others,  or  to 
impair  the  dignity  or  lessen  the  influence  of  his  own 
character.  He  possessed  an  exquisite  sensibility,  which 
was  sometimes  a  source  of  great  pleasure  to  him,  and 
not  unfrequently  of  no  inconsiderable  pain.     His  sense 


316  COTTON     31  AT  HER     SMITH. 

of  right  and  wrong  was  exceedingly  nice,  and  with  all 
his  mildness  he  was  capable  of  dealing  out  severe  re- 
proofs to  obstinate  offenders.  An  illustration  of  this 
remark  now  occurs  to  me.  He  was  sent,  as  were  sev- 
eral of  his  brethren,  at  an  early  period,  by  the  Litch- 
field County  Association  as  a  missionary  to  Vermont, 
which  was  then  but  sparsely  settled,  and  in  some  parts 
by  a  population  of  rather  an  equivocal  character.  Some 
of  the  inhabitants — I  think  Ethan  Allen  of  infidel  no- 
toriety was  among  them — took  it  in  high  dudgeon  that 
he  should  have  come  on  such  an  errand,  as  if  there  was 
some  implication  that  they  needed  to  be  converted  from 
a  state  of  heathenism.  They  even  attacked  him  in  the 
most  rude  and  opprobrious  manner  in  the  public  papers, 
and  he  replied  to  their  wanton  attacks  with  dignified 
severity.  I  remember  that  the  closing  words  of  his 
answer,  which  certainly  showed  an  indignant  sense  of 
injury,  were — 'The  Lord  rebuke  thee,  Satan.'  M 

After  the  Revolution  Mr.  Smith  continued  his  paro- 
chial duties,  a  "  devout  and  earnest  Christian,  and  an 
instructive  and  animated  preacher/'  In  1805  ho 
preached  his  Half  Century  sermon  to  his  people,  from 
the  text,  "Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart 
in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation."  In 
this  sermon  he  stated  that  during  his  ministry  he  had 
delivered  "upwards  of  four  thousand  public  discourses, 
and  more  than  fifteen  hundred  on  funeral  and  other 
special  occasions/'  The  next  year  he  preached  his  last 
sermon.  A  disease  which  had  been  gradually  under- 
mining his  constitution  at  length  laid  him  prostrate, 
lie,  however,  lingered  on  for  several  months;  suffering 


HIS     DEATH-BED     TESTIMONY.  317 

at  times  the  most  excruciating  torture,  }ret  he  bore  all 
with  the  patience  and  calm  resignation  of  a  Christian 
martyr.  Two  days  before  his  death,  in  an  interval  of 
pain,  he  spoke  at  length  of  the  value  of  the  Bible,  de- 
clared what  he  believed  to  be  its  essential  doctrines, 
concluding  his  remarks  with,  "  These  things  I  have 
preached  to  others,  and  these  things  I  believe  as  fully 
as  that  the  Bible  is  the  word  of  God,  and  this  I  believe 
as  fully  as  that  the  Son  of  God  was  made  manifest  in 
the  flesh,  and  this  I  believe  as  fully  as  that  God  gov- 
erns the  world,  and  this  I  believe  as  fully  as  I  believe 
in  my  own  present  existence  and  approaching  dissolu- 
tion. Lord,  help  mine  unbelief/'  He  spoke  but  little 
after  this,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  27th  of  Novem- 
ber, 1806,  in  the  seventy-sixth  year  of  his  age,  peace- 
fully and  without  a  struggle  sunk  to  rest. 

He  had  six  children,  one  of  whom,  John  Cotton,  has 
borne  a  prominent  part  in  the  history  of  the  nation. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

JUDAn   CHAMPION. 

JcDAn  Champion,  tiie  Pastor  of  Litchfield,  Connecticut. — His  Praters  for 
ms  Country. — Extraordinary  Scenk  in  Church  on  the  Arrival  of  News 
from  the  Army. — Women  Working  on  the  Sabbath  to  prepare  Garments 
for  the  Soldiers. — The  Pastor  on  the  Field  of  Battle. 

Judah  Champion  was  Lorn  in  Haddam,  Con- 
necticut, May  21,  1724.  From  his  youth  he  was  dis- 
tinguished for  his  integrity,  truthfulness  and  scrupulous 
performance  of  duty.  During  his  college  course  at 
Yale,  he  missed  morning  prayers  but  once,  and  then  his 
delinquency  was  occasioned  by  a  senior,  who  purposely 
imposed  on  him  a  duty  that  he  could  not  perform 
without  being  absent  from  chapel  exercises.  When  he 
made  his  explanation  to  the  professor,  the  latter  said, 
"  Champion,  you  never  need  give  any  excuse  for  ab- 
sence from  prayers  again."  He  was  ordained  pastor  of 
the  Congregational  Church  of  Litchfield,  Connecticut, 
July  4,  1753,  when  that  parish  comprised  Northfield, 
South  Farms  and  Milton.  Short,  erect,  with  an  clastic 
step  and  dignified  gait ;  he  had  a  frank  and  open  coun- 
tenance, and  a  clear,  straightforward  look,  that  bespoke 
both  his  sincerity  and  fearlessness.  Earnest  and  elo- 
quent, he  exercised  unbounded  influence  over  his  parish, 
and  was  looked  up  to  with  love  and  reverence  by  young 
and  old.     His  power  in  prayer  was  so  remarkable  that 


PRAYER     FOR    VICTORY.  319 

whenever  any  one  within  his  extensive  parish  felt  it 
necessary  to  send  for  a  physician;  he  sent  also  for 
the  pastor  to  pray  with  the  sick,  having  an  almost 
superstitious  belief  in  the  efficacy  of  his  "  fervent 
prayer."  A  thorough  scholar,  many  distinguished 
men  fitted  for  college  under  him,  among  whom  may 
be  mentioned  Gov.  Oliver  Wolcott  and  Hon.  Frederick 
Wolcott. 

Ardent  in  his  feelings,  and  hating  every  form  of  op- 
pression, he  lent  the  weight  of  his  personal  character 
and  his  eloquent  tongue  to  the  cause  of  the  Colonies. 
His  prayers  for  their  success  in  the  conflict  on  which 
they  had  entered,  were  so  fervent  and  thrilling  as  at 
times  completely  to  electrify  his  congregation.  On  one 
occasion  Major  Tallmadge  was  passing  through  Litch- 
field with  a  regiment  of  cavalry.  Beaching  the  village 
Saturday  night,  they  remained  over  the  Sabbath  and 
attended  Mr.  Champion's  church.  The  presence  of  the 
armed  troopers  in  the  house,  brought  before  the  patri- 
otic pastor  more  vividly  than  ever  the  struggle  that 
was  wasting  the  land,  and  the  more  terrible  conflicts 
awaiting  it  when  the  veteran  hosts  reported  to  be  on  their 
way  to  conquer  them  should  arrive.  In  his  morning 
prayer  he  referred  to  the  prospective  hostile  invasion, 
the  overwhelming  numbers  that  composed  it,  the  cruel 
purpose  for  which  it  was  set  on  foot,  and  the  haughty, 
scornful  spirit  of  those  who  carried  it  on.  He  spoke 
of  their  enmity  to  the  American  church,  and  the  ruin 
to  religion  which  their  success  would  accomplish  ;  of 
congregations  scattered,  churches  burned  to  the  ground, 
and  the  Lord's  people  made  a  hissing  and  a  by-word 


320  JUDAH     CHAMPION. 

among  their  foes,  till  liis  own  feelings  and  those  of  liis 
hearers  were  roused  into  intense  excitement  in  view  of 
the  great  wrongs  and  sufferings  designed  for  them  and 
the  Church  of  God,  and  he  burst  forth  : 

u  0  Lord,  we  view  with  terror  and  dismay  the  ene- 
mies of  our  holy  religion  ;  wilt  thou  send  storm  and 
tempest  to  toss  them  upon  the  sea,  to  overwhelm  them 
in  the  mighty  deep,  or  scatter  them  to  the  utmost 
parts  of  the  earth.  But,  peradventure,  should  they 
escape  thy  vengeance,  collect  them  together  again,  0 
Lord,  as  in  the  hollow  of  thy  hand,  and  let  thy  light- 
nings play  upon  them.  We  beseech  thee,  moreover, 
that  thou  do  gird  up  the  loins  of  these  thy  servants, 
who  are  going  forth  to  fight  thy  battles.  Make  them 
strong  men,  that  one  shall  chase  a  thousand,  and  two 
put  ten  thousand  to  flight.  Hold  before  them  the 
shield  with  which  thou  wast  wont  in  the  old  time  to 
protect  thy  chosen  people.  Give  them  swift  feet,  that 
they  may  pursue  their  enemies,  and  swords  terrible  as 
that  of  thy  destroying  angel,  that  they  may  cleave 
them  down.  Preserve  these  servants  of  thine,  Al- 
mighty God,  and  bring  them  once  more  to  their  homes 
and  friends,  if  thou  canst  do  it  consistently  with 
thy  high  purpose.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  thou  hast 
decreed  they  shall  die  in  battle,  let  thy  spirit  be 
present  with  them  that  they  may  go  up  as  a  sweet 
sacrifice  into  the  courts  of  thy  temple,  where  are  hab- 
itations prepared  for  them  from  the  foundation  of  tho 
world." 

In  these  days  of  peace  and  security  one  is  apt  to 
look  on  such  a  prayer  with  profound  surprise,  if  not 


EAGERNESS    FOR    NEWS.  321 

with  condemnation  ;  but  the  patriotic  clergy  of  the 
revolution  never  practised  self-deception  ;  they  did  not 
wish  for  one  thing  in  their  hearts  and  pray  for  another 
with  their  lips.  When  they  wanted  the  destruction 
of  their  foes,  they  did  not  pray  about  something  else, 
and  wait  to  see  if  their  desires  might  not  be  accom- 
plished through  the  agency  of  wicked  men,  or  chance, 
or  the  devil.  They  came  boldly  to  the  very  Holy  of 
Holies,  and  asked  for  it.  Their  enemies  were  the 
enemies  of  God  ;  their  foes  those  of  the  Church,  who 
were  coming  to  lay  waste  and  destroy  God's  heritage, 
and  they  wished  their  overthrow,  and  honestly,  and 
with  strong  crying  and  tears,  prayed  for  it.  Like 
Cromwell's  Ironsides,  who  first  invoked  God's  right 
arm  to  strike  with  them,  and  then  with  the  fearful 
war-cry  "  Religion"  on  their  lips  swept  like  a  thunder- 
cloud to  battle  ;  like  the  Covenanters,  who  prayed 
that  their  swords  might  be  like  that  of  Gideon,  that 
turned  not  back  from  the  slaughter,  and  then  fell  in 
fury  on  their  pursuers  ;  like  David,  praying  for  the 
overthrow  of  his  enemies,  and  Moses,  and  Joshua, 
and  the  prophets,  whose  earnest  supplications  swelled 
the  heaps  of  the  slain  ;  so  these  puritan  divines,  with- 
out rancor  or  vindictive  hate,  prayed  in  this  fashion, 
and  with  an  honest,  earnest  purpose,  "  Thy  kingdom 
come." 

At  this  remote  period  it  is  impossible  to  imagine 
the  state  of  excitement  in  which  the  country  was 
thrown  by  the  opening  scenes  of  the  revolution.  Im- 
portant news  traveled  at  that  time  by  couriers,  and 
eyes  were  constantly  turned  up  and  down  the  streets 

14* 


322  JUDAII     CHAMPION, 

for  ^vift  riders  bearing  intelligence  bis*  with  the  fate 

o  o  o 

of  the  colonies. 

One  pleasant  Sabbath  morning,  the  inhabitants  of 
Litchfield  had  gathered  to  the  sanctuary,  the  streets 
were  deserted,  and  not  a  living  tiling  broke  the  serenity 
and  stillness  that  reigned  in  the  quiet  village.  The 
services  had  already  commenced,  and  the  solemn  strains 
of  the  morning  hymn  had  just  died  away,  and  the 
clear  tones  of  Mr.  Champion's  voice  were  echoing 
through  the  consecrated  place,  when  the  clatter  of  a 
horse's  hoofs,  coming  at  a  furious  rate  down  the  street, 
arrested  every  ear.  The  animal  was  covered  with 
foam,  but  the  eager  rider  spared  not  the  spur  as  he 
pressed  straight  for  the  meeting-house.  Alighting  at 
the  door,  he  flung  the  bridle  on  the  horse's  neck,  and 
entering  the  porch,  walked  rapidly  up  the  centre  aisle, 
and  amid  a  hush  like  that  of  death,  ascended  the 
pulpit  steps  and  handed  Mr.  Champion  a  paper.  The 
excited  pastor  cast  his  eye  over  it,  and  then  arose  and 
announced  to  the  still  more  excited  congregation,  that 
St.  John's  had  been  taken  by  the  American  troops. 
"St.  John's  is  taken, "*  exclaimed  the  patriot,  and 
lifting  his  eyes  to  heaven  burst  forth,  "  Thank  God 
fur  the  victory  !  "  The  chorister,  who  sat  opposite  in 
the  gallery,  could  not  contain  his  joy,  but  clapping  his 
hands,  vigorously  shouted,  "Amen,  and  amen  !  " 

After  the  first  excitement  was  over,  the  pastor  pro- 
ceeded to  read  the  entire  communication.     It  stated 

*  It  must  bo  remembered  it  had  bocn  besieged  six  weeks,  and  was 
regarded  as  the-  key  of  Canada. 


SABBATH    WORK. 

that  our  army  was  in  a  suffering  condition,  destitute 
of  clothing,  without  stockings  or  shoes,  while  in  that 
latitude,  the  latter  part  of  November  had  brought  all 
the  rigors  of  winter,  and  that  with  bare,  lacerated 
feet  they  were  soon  to  march  to  Quebec.  Sorrow  and 
pity  took  the  place  of  exultation,  and  generous  sym- 
pathetic eyes  filled  with  tears  on  every  side.  There 
was  scarcely  a  dry  eye  among  the  females  of  the  con- 
gregation. As  soon  as  the  audience  was  dismissed, 
they  were  seen  gathered  together  in  excited  groups, 
and  it  was  evident  some  scheme  was  on  foot  that 
would  not  admit  of  delay.  The  result  was,  that  when 
the  congregation  assembled  in  the  afternoon,  not  a 
woman  ivas  to  be  seen.  The  men  had  come  to  church, 
but  their  earnest,  noble  wives  and  daughters  had  taken 
down  their  hand-cards,  drawn  forth  their  spinning- 
wheels,  set  in  motion  their  looms,  while  the  knitting 
and  sewing  needle  were  plied  as  they  never  were  plied 
before.  It  was  a  strange  spectacle  to  see  that  puritan 
Sabbath  turned  into  a  day  of  secular  work.  The  pas- 
tor was  at  the  meeting-house  performing  those  duties 
belonging  to  the  house  of  God,  and  the  voice  of  prayer 
and  hymns  of  praise  ascended  as  usual  from  devout 
and  solemn  hearts  ;  but  all  through  the  usually  quiet 
streets  of  Litchfield  the  humming  sound  of  the  spin- 
ning-wheel, the  clash  of  the  shuttle  plying  to  and  fro 
were  heard,  making  strange  harmony  with  the  worship 
of  the  sanctuary.  But  let  it  not  be  supposed  that 
these  noble  women  had  gone  to  work  without  the 
knowledge  of  their  pastor.  They  had  consulted  with 
him,  and  he  had  given  them  his  sanction  and  blessing. 


324  JUDAU    CHAMPION. 

Nor  was  tlicir  toil  enlivened  by  pleasant  conversation 
and  light  talk.  Swimming  eyes  and  heaving  bosoms 
were  over  their  work,  and  lips  moved  in  prayer  for  the 
destitute  and  suffering  soldiers.  The  pastor's  wife 
contributed  eleven  blankets  from  her  own  stores  to  the 
collection.  Many  years  after,  when  speaking  of  this 
event,  a  grand-daughter  asked  the  venerable  man  how 
such  a  desecration  of  the  Sabbath  could  be  justified. 
He  turned  on  her  a  reproving  look,  and  replied,  "  Mercy 
before  sacrifice." 

Is  it  wonderful  that  a  cause  which  called  forth  such 
efforts  and  such  prayers  should  succeed  ?  How  super- 
ficially has  the  American  historian  studied  the  revolu- 
tion, who  leaves  out  of  his  narrative  the  pulpit  and 
clergy,  or  fails  to  give  them  a  prominent  place  ?  The 
express-rider  dashing  through  Litchfield  was  guilty  of 
no  such  mistake.  Driving  the  rowels  in  his  panting 
steed,  he  dashed  straight  for  the  house  of  God  and  the 
pulpit.  He  knew  that  the  clergy  were  a  committee  of 
one  in  every  parish  to  whom  all  other  committees,  aye, 
and  Provincial  Congresses  too,  looked  for  sympathy 
and  support. 

Not  long  after  Mr.  Champion  received,  on  the  same 
morning,  from  various  parishioners,  who  were  ignorant 
of  each  other's  intentions,  a  great  many  quarters  of 
veal.  Mrs.  Champion,  alarmed  at  the  extraordinary 
Wipply,  informed  her  husband  of  it,  and  wanted  to 
know  what  to  do,  as  it  would  be  impossible  to  preserve 
such  a  large  quantity  of  fresh  meat  till  it  was  consum- 
ed. u  Never  mind/'  said  the  good  pastor,  "  Providence 
has  a  meaning  in  it.     There  will  be  occasion  to  use  it 


ATTENTION     TO     THE    WOUNDED.        325 

in  some  way  we  do  not  thinly  of/'  Scarce  two  hours 
had  passed  before  a  letter  was  put  in  his  hand  from  his 
nephew,  Henry  Champion,  quarter-master  in  the  army, 
stating  that  a  regiment  of  soldiers  would  pass  through 
Litchfield  that  day,  and  wishing  he  would  see  that  a 
dinner  was  prepared  for  them.  He  immediately  sent 
word  round  to  the  inhabitants,  who  assembled,  and 
soon  tables  were  set  all  through  the  main  street,  and 
bountifully  provided.  Before  night  Mrs.  Champion 
found  that  the  quantity  of  veal  that  had  distressed  her 
so  much  had  all  disappeared. 

When  the  news  of  Burgoyne's  invasion  sent  con- 
sternation over  the  land,  this  patriotic  pastor  could  no 
longer  remain  at  home  an  idle  spectator  of  the  contest. 
Offering  his  services  as  chaplain,  he  was  ordered  to 
Ticonderoga.  He  was  there  during  the  siege  of  that 
fortress,  and  fled  at  midnight  with  the  retreating  army 
through  the  wilderness.  Sharing  the  perils  and  hard- 
ships of  that  disastrous  retreat,  he  at  length  saw  with 
joy  and  thankfulness  the  army  make  its  determined 
stand  at  Saratoga.  After  the  first  battle,  he  devoted 
himself  night  and  day  to  the  sick  and  wounded.  The 
same  attention  was  shown  to  the  wounded  British, 
after  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne.  He  made  the  hos- 
pitals his  home,  for  the  wretchedness  and  suffering 
around  him  so  moved  his  heart  that  he  could  not  rest. 
The  sick  and  dying  of  whatever  nation  were  to  him  as 
brothers,  and  such  was  his  zeal  and  self-sacrifice  that 
the  British  officers,  as  well  as  our  own,  returned  him 
their  warmest  thanks. 

He  witnessed   the  close  of  the  great   drama,  and 


326  JUDAH    CHAMPION. 

when  the  British  evacuated  New  York,  he  returned 
once  more  to  his  parish  to  share  in  the  general  joy  that 
swelled  the  hearts  of  a  ransomed  people.  He  died 
October  8,  1810,  in  the  fifty-seventh  year  of  his  min- 
istry, and  eightieth  year  of  his  age. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

ALEXANDER   McWHORTER. 

His  Early  Life.— Zeal  in  the  Cause  of  Liberty.— Sent  South  by  Congress  to 
rouse  the  Inhabitants.— Accompanies  Washington  in  his  Retreat  through 
New  Jersey.— Made  Chaplain  of  Knox's  Brigade.— Leaves  the  Army.— Set- 
tles in  North  Carolina. — His  Library  and  Furniture  destroyed  by  Tna 
British. — Flees  to  Pennsylvania. — Burt  to  England  to  raise  Funds  for 
Princeton  College. — Revisits  his  Native  Place. — His  Death. 

Although  the  subject  of  the  following  sketch  moved 
amid  some  of  the  most  stirring  scenes  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  was  identified  with  many  of  its  leading  events, 
the  details  and  incidents  necessary  to  a  proper  appreci- 
ation of  his  services  arc  sadly  wanting. 

He  was  born  in  Newcastle,  Delaware,  July  15th, 
1734,  though  his  parents  removed  when  he  was  a  mere 
boy  to  North  Carolina.  He  was  licensed  to  preach  in 
1758,  and  continued  to  discharge  his  duties  as  pastor 
with  great  success  till  the  breaking  out  of  the  Revolu- 
tion. He  was  at  the  North  in  search  of  health  when 
the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  set  the  land  in  a  blaze,  and 
immediately  flung  himself  with  such  zeal  into  the  strug- 
gle that  Congress  sent  him  to  North  Carolina  to  rouse 
the  people  to  take  sides  with  the  other  Colonies.  His 
enthusiastic  appeals  kindled  the  hate  of  the  Tories  of 
that  State,  and  he  was  pursued  with  the  utmost  ma- 
lignity, and  met  with  such  determined  opposition  that 
he  at  length  abandoned  the  effort  and  returned  North. 


328      ALEXANDER  McWnOKTER, 

In  the  summer  of  177G  he  received  the  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Divinity  from  Yale  College.  The  next  winter  found 
him  by  the  side  of  Washington  in  the  gloomy  retreat 
through  the  Jerseys,  and  on  the  frozen  banks  of  the 
Delaware,  concerting  with  him  on  what  was  to  be  done 
for  the  salvation  of  the  state.  On  the  night  of  the 
26th  of  December  he  marched  through  the  driving  sleet 
to  Trenton,  and  with  a  heart  full  of  joy  and  devout 
thanksgiving  heard  the  shout  of  victory  that  lifted  the 
land  from  the  abyss  of  despair,  and  shed  a  bright 
though  transient  gleam  of  light  on  the  all  enshrouding 
darkness.  He  gave  his  whole  time  and  effort  to  the 
army,  encountering  hardships  and  making  sacrifices  for 
the  common  good  with  a  cheerfulness  and  zeal  that  en- 
deared him  to  Washington  and  the  other  officers.  In 
the  summer  of  1778  General  Knox  made  an  urgent 
request  that  he  s*hould  become  the  chaplain  of  his 
brigade,  then  encamped  with  the  main  army  at  White 
Plains.  He  consented,  and  frequently  in  his  sermons 
to  the  troops  had  Washington  for  a  hearer.  The  latter 
esteemed  him  highly,  and  often  invited  him  to  head- 
quarters. During  the  summer  his  wife  wras  struck 
with  lightning,  and  although  not  killed  received  such  a 
shock  to  her  constitution  that  he  felt  it  his  duty  to 
resign  his  chaplaincy  and  return  home  to  attend  to  her 
and  the  family.  In  1779  he  received  a  call  from  the 
congregation  of  Charlotte,  Mecklenburg  county,  North 
Carolina,  and  at  the  same  time  an  invitation  to  be  pres- 
ident of  Charlotte  Academy.  Both  of  these  he  accepted, 
lie  had  not  been  settled  here  long,  however,  when  the 
approach  of  Cornwallis;  spreading  devastation  on  every 


VISIT     TO     BIRTHPLACE.  329 

side,  compelled  hiin  to  flee  with  his  family.  On  his 
return  he  found  that  his  library,  furniture  and  other 
property  had  become  the  spoil  of  the  invaders,  and 
fearing  repeated  attacks  he  left  the  place  and  set  his 
face  northward.  He  preached  afterwards  for  a  few 
years  in  Abingdon,  in  Pennsylvania,  but  in  1802,  after 
Princeton  College  was  burned,  he,  at  the  earnest  re- 
quest of  the  trustees,  went  to  England  to  solicit  aid 
for  its  reercction. 

In  his  old  age,  feeling  a  strong  desire  to  visit  his 
native  place  in  Delaware,  he  took  a  colored  servant, 
and  in  a  light  carriage  traveled  slowly  to  Newcastle. 
Dr.  Murray,  of  Elizabethtown,  thus  relates  the  follow- 
ing incident  of  this  visit,  obtained  from  Dr.  Miller,  of 
Princeton  :  "  Driving  up  to  the  door  of  the  house  in 
which  he  was  born — now  old  and  dilapidated — he  asked 
the  woman  who  came  to  the  door  who  lived  there.  Being 
answered,  he  asked  again  who  lived  there  before  them. 
Having  received  a  reply,  he  again  asked,  c  Who  lived 
there  before  them  V  The  woman  could  not  tell.  He 
then  asked  her  if  she  had  ever  heard  of  a  family  who 
once  lived  there  by  the  name  of  McWhorter.  '  What 
name  did  you  say  ?'  said  the  woman.  c  McWhorter/ 
replied  the  doctor.  c  I  never  heard  of  such  a  family/ 
said  she.  He  then  drove  to  a  neighboring  house,  where 
an  uncle,  a  brother  of  his  father,  used  to  live.  He 
asked  the  same  questions,  and  received  the  same  an- 
swers. Keturning  to  the  house  of  his  birth,  he  left 
his  carriage  and  asked  for  a  tumbler,  saying,  l  There  is 
one  place  here  that  knows  me  and  that  I  know.'  And 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  his  servant  he  hobbled  to  a 


330      ALEXANDER  MCWHORTER, 

spring  at  the  bottom  of  the  garden  from  which  he  used 
to  drink  when  a  boy.  He  stood  over  it  for  some  time, 
and  drank  of  its  waters  until  he  could  drink  no  more. 
He  then  hobbled  back  to  his  carriage,  repeating  these 
words  as  he  entered  it — the  tears  streaming  from  his 
eyes — i  The  places  that  now  know  us  will  know  us  no 
more  forever/  " 

He  died  the  20th  of  July,  1807,  calm,  patient,  and 
at  times  triumphant,  and  passed  to  his  reward.  The 
noble  patriot,  however,  lived  to  see  his  country  not 
only  free,  but  rapidly  advancing  to  that  rank  among 
nations  which  she  has  since  taken. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

MOSES   ALLEIT. 

Ills  Early  Lift:.— A  Friend  of  Madison. — Settles  in  Midway,  Georgia.— His 
Patriotic  Efforts. — Chaplain  in  the  Army. — His  House  and  Church 
Burned. — In  the  BatTle  before  Savannah. — Is  taken  Prisoner. — Confined 
on  board  a  Prison  Ship.— His  Sufferings. — Brutality  of  his  Captors. — 
Attempts  to  Escape.— Is  Drowned. — Denied  Decent  Burial. 

There  were  not  two  nobler,  more  devoted  patriots 
in  the  revolution  than  the  two  brothers,  Thomas  and 
Moses  Allen.  The  latter  was  born  in  Northampton, 
Mass.,  Sept  14th,  1748.  He  received  his  education  at 
Princeton  College,  where  he  graduated  in  1772,  and 
two  years  after  was  licensed  to  preach  by  the  presby- 
tery of  New  Brunswick.  A  friend  and  classmate  of 
young  Madison,  he,  soon  after  receiving  license,  made 
a  visit  to  him  at  the  house  of  his  father,  Col.  Madison, 
where  he  spent  several  days,  and  by  whom  he  was 
invited  to  preach  at  the  Court  House.  His  discourse 
delighted  the  people  so  much  that  he  was  requested  to 
spend  the  winter  there.  In  the  March  following  he 
preached  at  Christ's  Church,  twenty  miles  from  Charles- 
ton, South  Carolina.  Having  received  ordination,  he 
remained  here  till  1777,  when  he  removed  to  Midway, 
Georgia.  Though  surrounded  by  tories  in  his  new 
home,  some  of  whom  formed  a  part  of  his  congrega- 
tion, he  took  open  ground  against  the  mother  country. 
He  thought  it  no  sacrilege  to  preach  rebellion  from  the 


332  MOSES    ALLEN. 

pulpit,  and  though  remonstrated  with  and  threatened, 
he  continued  to  denounce  the  aggressive  measures  of 
Great  Britain  as  insulting  and  tyrannical,  declaring 
they  never  should  be  submitted  to,  and  called  on  his 
people  to  arm  in  defence  of  their  country  and  its  most 
sacred  rights.  During  the  winter  and  spring  of  177S 
the  tories,  aided  by  the  Indians,  became  so  formidable, 
and  gathered  in  such  threatening  numbers  on  the 
southern  frontier,  that  an  expedition  was  fitted  out 
against  them.  Gov.  Houston,  of  Georgia,  furnished 
three  hundred  and  fifty  militia,  and  led  them  in  per- 
son. Young  Allen,  whose  eloquent  tongue  had  never 
ceased  to  plead  with  the  hesitating  and  denounce  the 
tories  as  traitors,  no  sooner  heard  the  trumpet  of  war 
sound  than  he  left  his  parish,  and  joined  the  Georgia 
brigade  as  chaplain. 

The  entire  force  was  under  the  command  of  Gen. 
Robert  Howe,  who  immediately  pushed  southward  to 
St.  Mary's  river,  and  driving  the  affrighted  tories  from 
Fort  Tonin,  made  preparations  to  move  against  St. 
Augustine,  at  that  time  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 
The  latter  immediately  began  to  concentrate  his  forces, 
and  if  Howe  expected  to  do  any  thing,  prompt  and 
energetic  action  was  necessary.  But  instead  of  this, 
divided  councils  and  disputes  respecting  the  rights  of 
the  several  commands  prevailed — the  commander  of 
the  naval  force  refusing  to  obey  a  land  officer,  and 
Gov.  Houston  asserting  the  right  to  the  control  of  his 
own  troops,  so  that  nothing  at  all  was  done.  In  the 
meantime,  the  troops  being  without  tents,  were  com- 
pelled to  encamp  on  the  damp  ground,  curtained  at 


ATTACK    ON    SAVANNAH.  333 

night  with  the  pestiferous  exhalations  of  swamps,  which 
soon  prostrated  the  militia  unaccustomed  to  such 
exposures,  with  sickness.  Disheartened  by  this  state 
of  things,  Col.  Pinckney  took  the  fragments  of  his 
command  and  returned  by  water  to  Charleston,  while 
Howe,  his  force  of  eleven  hundred  being  reduced  to 
three  hundred  and  fifty,  marched  back  to  Savannah. 

The  patriots  were  much  disheartened  by  the  dis- 
graceful failure  of  this  expedition,  but  young  Allen, 
whose  courage  and  enthusiasm  nothing  could  shake  or 
dampen,  grew  bolder  as  the  prospects  darkened,  and 
devoted  his  entire  energies  to  keep  up  the  spirit  of  the 
inhabitants,  urging  them  by  every  argument,  and  the 
most  impassioned  eloquence  to  arm  in  defense  of  the 
State.  This  was  the  more  necessary,  as  the  failure  of 
this  grand  attempt  to  invade  Florida  had  emboldened 
the  enemy  to  invade  in  turn.  Savannah  was  selected 
by  them  as  the  point  of  attack,  and  arrangements  were 
made  to  have  a  naval  force  from  the  north  enter  the 
Savannah  river  and  invest  it  on  the  water  side,  while 
Provost,  with  his  heterogeneous  horde  of  regulars,  tories, 
and  Indians  from  Florida,  should  advance  against  it 
over  the  country.  The  whole  region  was  thrown  into 
a  state  of  the  wildest  alarm  by  the  imposing  forces 
that  now  threatened  to  sweep  away  every  vestige  of 
opposition.  The  tories  were  elated,  and  the  hitherto 
timorous  and  wavering,  were  inclined  to  accept  the 
terms  of  mercy  that  had  been  offered.  It  was  in  this 
crisis  that  the  eloquent  voice  and  fearless  bearing  of 
young  Allen  stayed  the  ebbing  tide  of  patriotism.  His 
presence  and  appeals  so  arrested  disaffection  that  the 


334  MOSES    ALLEN. 

tories  cursed  his  very  name.  lie  became  more  obnox- 
ious to  them  than  the  military  leaders  of  the  patriotic 
forces,  and  the  most  deadly  threats  were  uttered 
against  him. 

In  the  meantime  Provost,  with  his  rabble  hordes, 
was  advancing  in  the  direction  of  Midway.  Mr. 
Allen's  congregation  was,  of  course,  broken  up,  part 
fleeing  into  the  surrounding  country,  while  most  of  the 
able-bodied  men  rallied  around  their  pastor,  who  has- 
tened to  join  the  patriots  under  General  Scriven.  The 
latter  had  frequent  skirmishes  with  the  enemy,  in  one 
of  which  the  tory  general,  McGirth,  was  killed.  The 
enemy  continued  to  press  forward,  however,  until  they 
came  within  three  miles  of  Ogeechee  ferry.  Mr.  Sav- 
age, a  patriotic  planter,  hearing  of  their  approach,  and 
ascertaining  they  were  marching  in  the  direction  of  the 
ferry,  hastily  called  his  slaves  together,  and  repairing 
thither  threw  up  a  breastwork.  He  kept  the  terrified 
blacks  steadily  at  their  work  until  the  sound  of  fife 
and  drum  in  the  rear  announced  the  approach  of  help. 
Soon  Colonel  Elbert,  with  two  hundred  continentals, 
arrived  and  took  possession  of  the  works.  The  enemy 
coming  in  sight  of  this  unexpected  obstacle  in  their 
path,  immediately  retreated  towards  the  Altamaha, 
lighting  their  way  with  burning  dwellings  and  stacks 
of  rice,  which  at  that  season  dotted  the  fields.  Mid- 
way, the  hot  bed  of  rebellion,  and  the  home  of  Mr. 
Allen,  was  the  first  object  of  revenge.  The  tories  told 
the  British  officer  that  this  rebel  parson  did  more  in- 
jury to  the  cause  of  the  king  than  a  dozen  colonels, 
and  that  the  hornet's  nest  should  be  utterly  destroyed. 


BATTLE     AT     SAVANNAH.  335 

To  his  shame,  he  ordered  the  torch  to  be  applied,  not 
only  to  his  house,  but  also  to  the  church  where  they 
said  so  much  treason  had  been  preached,  and  they  were 
both  burned  to  the  ground.  These  outrages  were  not 
calculated  to  cool  the  pastor's  patriotism,  or  cause  him 
to  slacken  his  efforts,  nor  did  they.  Between  this  time 
and  December,  when  Savannah  fell,  he  labored  inces- 
santly to  rouse  the  inhabitants  to  defend  their  capital. 
The  people  of  the  city  turned  out,  and  seizing  the 
spade  and  pickaxe  toiled  side  by  side  with  the  soldiers 
and  negroes  in  erecting  defences.  In  the  meantime, 
Howe,  with  only  a  little  over  seven  hundred  men,  has- 
tened thither.  The  militia  were  called  upon  by  the 
governor,  but  they  came  in  slowly,  so  that  when  Pro- 
vost arrived  before  the  place,  the  army,  all  told, 
amounted  to  only  nine  hundred  men. 

The  British  fleet  at  length  entered  the  river,  and 
Howe  prepared  for  battle.  The  disposition  of  his 
forces,  however,  was  injudicious,  and  the  British  com- 
mander by  outmaneuvering  him,  virtually  won  the 
battle  before  a  shot  was  fired.  Among  other  errors  he 
neglected  a  bye-path  which  led  to  his  rear,  although 
Walton,  the  commander  of  the  Georgia  brigade, 
pointed  it  out  to  him.  Howe  replied  that  it  was  of 
no  consequence,  for  the  British  would  never  notice  it. 
The  result  was,  Sir  James  Baird,  with  a  body  of  in- 
fantry and  New  York  volunteers  left  the  main  body, 
and  under  the  guidance  of  an  old  negro  named  Quo- 
mino  Dolly,  traversed  this  obscure  path  and  fell  on 
the  rear  of  the  army  at  the  same  time  the  British 
commander  attacked  in  front.     The  Georgia  militia, 


336  MOSES    ALLEN. 

taken  by  surprise,  were  thrown  into  confusion,  but 
their  officers  rallied  them  to  meet  the  onset  firmly. 
Young  Allen,  seeing  the  unsteadiness  of  the  troops, 
rushed  to  the  front  of  the  battle  and  called  on  the  men 
to  follow  him.  Wherever  the  fire  was  hottest,  there 
he  hurried,  unconscious  of  fear,  and  strove  heroic- 
ally to  impart  courage  to  others.  The  reckless  expos- 
ure of  the  unarmed  minister  of  God,  again  and  again 
shamed  the  wavering  troops  back  to  their  duty.  But 
the  flank  movement  had,  from  the  outset,  decided  the 
battle,  and  though  each  man  had  been  determined  and 
fearless  as  Allen,  defeat  was  inevitable  and  resistance 
only  increased  the  slaughter.  Walton,  the  commander, 
at  length  fell  wounded,  when  all  order  was  lost.  A  few 
escaped,  but  the  greater  part  were  taken  prisoners,  and 
among  them  Mr.  Allen.  The  line  in  front  now  gave 
way,  and  the  fight  became  a  rout.  A  few  escaped 
through  the  rice  fields,  and  some  by  swimming  a  creek 
in  the  rear,  but  a  hundred  were  killed  or  drowned,  and 
four  hundred  and  fifty-three  taken  prisoners.  The 
enemy  now  occupied  Savannah  without  further  resist- 
ance. The  continental  officers  were  sent  on  parole  to 
Banbury,  but  the  privates  were  placed  on  board  prison 
ships  in  the  river,  and  among  them  the  chaplain.  It 
seems  hardly  conceivable  that  an  officer,  commanding 
Christian  troops,  should  be  guilty  of  such  an  outrage 
upon  a  minister  of  God.  One  would  think,  if  any 
distinction  at  all  was  made  in  the  prisoners,  it  would 
haw  been  in  his  favor,  and  not  against  him.  Were 
the  sacredness  of  his  profession  set  aside  altogether,  it 
is  not  easy  to  see  by  what  right  he,  an  officer  in  the 


INHUMAN     TREATMENT.  337 

army,  was  denied  the  parole  extended  to  all  the  others. 
It  seems  the  more  strange  in  this  case  as  the  British 
commander,  Col.  Campbell,  had  the  reputation  of  being 
both  humane  and  generous.  It  can  bo  explained  only 
on  the  ground  that  the  tories  represented  his  case  as  a 
peculiar  one — that  by  his  influence,  his  preaching  and 
example  he  inflicted  more  injury  on  the  royal  cause 
than  any  other  man.  Besides,  his  bold  denunciations 
of  King  George,  and  irreverent  language  used  not  only 
toward  his  majesty  but  the  government,  lost  none  of 
their  bitterness  and  treasonable  character  in  being  re^ 
peated  to  the  commander.  In  short,  he  was  the  head 
rebel  of  the  entire  region,  whose  bold,  free  tongue  cut 
deeper  than  the  sword.  On  this  account  the  young, 
educated,  accomplished  divine  was  thrown  into  a 
loathsome  prison-ship,  and  placed  under  the  tender 
mercies  of  the  brutal  commander,  Parker.  Here, 
crowded  between  the  confined  decks,  suffocated  for 
want  of  air,  and  fed  like  brutes,  the  men  fell  sick,  and 
the  atmosphere  almost  unendurable  before,  became 
tainted  with  disease. 

Young  Allen,  however,  bore  up  like  a  Christian  and 
a  hero  under  the  sufferings  and  degradation  of  his  po- 
sition. He  prayed  with  the  sick,  and  spoke  cheering 
words  to  the  desponding.  Some  of  them  were  his 
parishioners,  whose  wives  and  families  were  wanderers 
like  his  own  amid  their  desolate  homes.  To  filth,  dis- 
ease, and  dirty,  unfit  food,  were  added  insults  and  pro- 
fanity. Emaciated,  pale  and  ragged,  this  young  cler- 
gymen, the  friend  and  class-mate  of  Madison,  dragged 

out  the  wearv  weeks,  with  a  brave,  unyielding  heart. 
15 


338  MIOSES     ALLEN. 

But  as  the  warm  weather  of  spring  approached  the 
sickness  increased,  and  his  loathsome  den  became  in- 
tolerable. To  shed  additional  gloom  on  their  fate, 
their  inhuman  captors,  surrounded  death,  which  other- 
wise would  have  been  hailed  as  a  happy  release,  with 
the  most  repulsive,  horrible  associations.  The  dead 
bodies  of  the  prisoners  were  not  allowed  a  resting  place 
even  beneath  the  waters  of  the  Savannah,  but  carried 
like  common  carrion  to  a  swamp  on  the  shore  and 
thrust  into  the  mud.  The  brutal  soldiery  did  not 
always  take  pains  to  force  the  corpses  below  the  sur- 
face of  the  ooze,  but  left  arms  and  legs  and  heads  ex- 
posed to  rot  in  the  sun.  Here  the  wran,  ghastly  face 
of  a  young  man,  and  there  the  gray  hairs  of  an  aged 
farmer,  whose  only  crime  was  defending  his  home  from 
invaders,  appeared  on  the  slimy  surface.  The  buz- 
zards, attracted  by  the  stench  that  arose  from  the  de- 
composed bodies,  came  from  the  surrounding  region 
and  swept  in  slow,  melancholy  circles,  above  the  swamp 
where  the  patriots  lay,  ere  they  descended  upon  their 
human  repast. 

Surrounded  with  such  sights  and  sufferings,  exposed 
to  constant  insults,  with  no  prospect  of  release,  Mr. 
Allen,  though  his  spirit  remained  unbroken,  deter- 
mined to  make  an  attempt  to  escape.  The  inhuman 
treatment  he  received,  and  to  which  there  seemed  no 
termination  but  death,  had  made  him  look  on  any  fate 
as  preferable  to  the  one  he  was  then  enduring.  He 
had  noticed  a  point  some  distance  down  the  river, 
from  which,  if  he  could  reach  it,  he  might,  he  thought, 
effect  his  escape,  and  he  resolved  on  the  first  favorable 


DENIED     BURIAL.  339 

occasion  to  make  the  attempt.  It  was  true  he  might 
be  detected  in  the  act  of  plunging  overboard  and 
shot,  but  this  did  not  deter  him  for  a  moment,  for  to 
the  desire  of  escaping  from  his  intolerable  prison  was 
added  the  anxious  loninn^  to  be  with  his  wife  and  in- 
flint  child,  now  without  a  protector  in  a  land  overrun 
by  malignant  tories.  The  thought  of  them  gave  greater 
fixedness  to  his  determination  to  remain  in  that  living 
grave  the  scoff  and  by-word  of  the  brutal  soldiers  no 
longer.  Watching,  therefore,  a  favorable  opportunity, 
when  the  guard  was  turned  away,  he  slipped  overboard 
and  boldly  swam  for  the  distant  point.  At  first  he 
struck  out  strong  and  vigorous,  but  he  soon  found  that 
he  had  overrated  his  strength.  Starvation  and  lon£ 
confinement  in  the  pestilential  air  of  the  prison  had 
taken  away  all  his  powers  of  endurance,  and  his  strokes 
gradually  became  slower  and  feebler.  His  fearless 
courage  could  not  supply  the  place  of  strength,  and  he 
soon  saw  that  he  would  never  reach  the  shore.  He 
struggled  on,  however,  manfully  to  the  last,  and  then, 
without  lifting  one  cry  for  help,  sunk  beneath  the  sur- 
face. His  body  was  thrown  ashore  on  Tybec  Island, 
and  some  of  the  prisoners  who  were  his  old  friends  and 
parishioners,  went  to  Commodore  Parker  and  asked  for 
a  few  rough  boards  that  they  might  make  a  box,  at 
least,  in  which  to  place  the  remains  of  their  pastor. 
But  this  man,  who  was  a  disgrace  to  his  profession  and 
to  the  nation  whose  commission  he  bore,  returned  a 
brutal  refusal,  saying  that  the  rebel  preacher  deserved 
only  a  traitor's  grave  ;  and  he  was  thrust  unceremoni- 
ously into  the  mud  with  the  others.     Thus  at   the 


340  MOSES     ALLEN. 

early  age  of  thirty  died  this  intellectual,  accomplished 
man,  eloquent  divine  and  earnest  patriot.  It  is  a 
6hame  to  the  State  for  whose  defence  he  gave  his 
life,  that  she  has  not  reared  a  monument  to  his 
memory. 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

BENJAMIN   TOMEROY. 

Ills  Early  Life. — Becomes  a  "New  Light.'" — Is  Persecuted  by  tiie  State,  and 
Finally  Deprived  of  iris  Salary. — Becomes  Chaplain  in  the  French  War. 
— His  Letter  to  his  Wife  describing  the  Execution  of  a  Criminal. — At 
RETORT  becomes  Chaplain  in  the  Revolutionary  Army. — His  Venerable 
Appearance. — Touching  Appeals. — His  Death. 

A  few  of  the  New  England  clergy  who  served  as 
chaplains  in  the  French  war  lived  to  act  in  the  same 
capacity  in  the  revolutionary  struggle.  Among  these 
was  Benjamin  Pomeroy,  who  was  born  in  Suffield, 
Connecticut,  in  1704.  Having  graduated  at  Yale 
College  in  1733,  with  the  highest  honors  of  his  class, 
he  devoted  a  short  time  to  the  study  of  theology,  and 
two  years  after  was  ordained  pastor  of  the  church  in 
Hebron,  Connecticut.  Having  identified  himself  with 
the  great  religious  excitement  which  commenced  about 
1740,  he  was  called  a  u  new  light/1  and  as  such  became 
obnoxious  to  the  bigoted,  intolerant  act  of  1742,  passed 
by  the  State  to  prevent,  it  was  said,  the  great  disorders 
caused  by  these  revivalists.  Being  arraigned  before  the 
Assembly,  he  was  tried  and  acquitted,  though  he  nar- 
rowly escaped  personal  violence  &t  the  hands  of  the 
excited  crowd  who  had  assembled  to  witness  the  trial. 
Two  years  after,  he  was  brought  again  before  the  Assem- 
bly for  having  denounced  its  intolerant  edicts,  especially 
for  saying  on  Fast-day  that  "  great  men  had  fallen  in 


342  BENJAMIN      POMEROY. 

with  those  that  were  on  the  devil's  side,  and  enemies  to 
the  kingdom  of  Christ — that  they  had  raised  such  per- 
secution in  the  land,  that  if  there  be  a  faithful  minister 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  he  must  lose  his  estate — that  if 
there  be  a  faithful  man  in  civil  authority  he  must  lose 
his  honor  and  usefulness,  and  that  there  was  no  colony 
so  bad  as  Connecticut  for  persecuting  laws.''    For  this 
bold  declaration  he  was  condemned  to  pay  the  cost  of 
the  prosecution,  give  bonds   to  the   amount   of  fifty 
pounds  for  his  peaceable  behavior  till  the  succeeding 
May,  and  then  appear  again  before  the  Assembly  to 
take  up  his  bond.      This    surveillance   of  the    State 
caused  him  much  annoyance,  but  he  retained  the  con- 
fidence and  love  of  his  entire  parish.     Subsequently  he 
was  again  arraigned  and  suffered  still  severer  punish- 
ment.   A  lecture  having  been  advertised  for  him  in  the 
adjoining  town  of  Colchester,  with  the  consent,  as  he 
supposed,  of  the  pastor,  he  went  at  the  appointed  time, 
to  the  church  where  it  was  to  be  delivered  but  found 
it  closed  against  him.     Finding  a  crowd,  however,  as- 
sembled to  hear  him,  he  was  unwilling  to  disappoint 
them,  and  BO   adjourned  to  a  neighboring  grove,  and 
gave  his  lecture.     For   this  violation  of  the    law  he 
was  deprived  of  his  stated  salary  for  a  period,  of  seven 
years. 

On  the  breaking  out  of  the  French  war  he  became  a 
chaplain  in  the  army.  Whether  the  annoyance  to 
which  he  was  subjected  by  the  oppressive  laws  of  the 
State,  or  his  own  ardent  spirit  prompted  him  to  this 
course,  we  arc  unable  to  say.  Wo  are  left  in  equal 
ignorance   of  the   incidents   that   marked   his   career 


EXECUTION      OF      A     CRIMINAL.         343 

during  the  campaigns  in  the  wilderness.  A  single  waif 
has  drifted  down  to  posterity  in  the  shape  of  a  letter 
to  his  wife,  which  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  his  life  as 
chaplain. 

"  Lake  George,  July  23,  1759. 

"My  Dear, 

"  Saturday  last,  at  break  of  day,  our  troops, 
to  the  number  of  twelve  thousand,  embarked  for 
Cabrillons,  all  in  health  and  high  spirits.  I  could 
wish  for  more  dependence  on  God  than  was  observable 
among  them,  yet  I  hope  God  will  grant  deliverance 
unto  Israel  by  them.  Mr.  Beebe*  and  I,  by  the  advice 
of  our  colonel,  stay  behind,  but  expect  soon  to  follow. 
A  considerable  number  of  sick  are  left  here  in  the  hos- 
pitals. Five  died  last  night.  I  have  been  well  in  gen- 
eral. Want  very  much  to  hear  from  you — our  dear 
children,  the  people,  the  neighboring  ministers,  etc.  I 
would  mention,  did  time  permit  me  to  describe  it, 
the  affecting  scene  of  last  Friday  morning.  A  poor, 
wretched  criminal,  Thomas  Bailey,  was  executed.  Mr. 
Brainard  and  myself  chiefly  discoursed  with  him,  but 
almost  all  his  care  was  to  have  his  life  prolonged — he 
pleaded  with  us  to  intercede  with  the  general  for  him, 
but  there  was  no  prospect  of  succeeding.  His  crime 
was  stealing  or  robbing,  whereof  he  had  frequently 
been  guilty.  Once  received  one  hundred  lashes,  and 
once  reprieved  from  the  gallows,  but  being  often  re- 
proved, he  hardened  his  heart,  and  was  suddenly  de- 
stroyed.    Several  prayers  were  made  at  the  place  of 

*  Assistant  Chaplain. 


344  BliNJAMIX     rOMEROY, 

execution — the  poor  creature  was  terrified,  even  to 
amazement  and  distraction,  at  the  approach  of  the 
King  of  Terrors.  An  eternity  of  sinful  pleasures  would 
be  dear  bought  with  the  pains  of  the  last  two  hours  of 
his  life.  He  struggled  with  his  executioners,  I  believe, 
more  than  an  hour  ere  they  could  put  him  in  any 
proper  position  to  receive  the  shot.  The  captain  of. 
the  guard  told  me  since,  that  he  verily  believed  that 
the  Devil  helped  him.  I  was  far  from  thinking  so,  yet 
his  resistance  wras  very  extraordinary. 

"I  am,  with  increasing  love  and  affection,  my  dear, 
your  most  affectionate,  loving  husband. 

"Benj.  Pomeroy. 

"Mks.  Abigail  Pomeuoy,  Hebron,  Conn." 

A  man  of  his  fearless,  independent  nature,  and  who 
had  suffered  from  oppressive  laws  would  not  be  likely 
to  be  a  mere  spectator  of  the  struggles  of  the  colonists 
against  the  tyrannical  acts  of  Great  Britain.  Though 
his  ardent,  impetuous  spirit  had  become  somewhat 
tempered  by  age,  he  entered  into  the  quarrel  with  all 
the  energy  and  enthusiasm  of  youth.  His  impas- 
sioned eloquence  and  impressive  appeals  that  wrere  so 
wont  to  move  his  audience  in  the  time  of  Whitfield, 
were  now  devoted  to  a  cause  equally  worthy  of  his 
fervent  sympathy  and  great  powers.  Preaching  extem- 
pore, those  addresses,  which  would  me.lt  his  hearers  to 
tears,  have  never  come  down  to  posterity.  He  had 
readied  1  lis  three  score  and  ten  years,  and  as  he  stood 
before  liis  audience  and  spoke  of  the  coming  struggle, 
and  declared  that  God  would  make  bare  [lis  right  arm 


CONFIDENCE    IN     ADVERSITY.  345 

for  the  deliverance  of  His  people,  and  the  discomfiture 
of  His  foes,  and  foretold  the  coming  glory  of  the  na- 
tion free  and  independent  ;  he  seemed  some  ancient 
seer,  whose  aged  eye  pierced  the  clouds  that  wrapped 
the  future  from  the  gaze  of  ordinary  mortals.  When 
the  news  of  the  battles  of  Lexington  and  Concord 
reached  Hebron,  though  he  was  seventy-one  years  of 
age,  it  stirred  the  sluggish  blood  in  his  aged  veins  so 
that  he  hastened  to  the  army,  and  volunteered  his 
services  as  chaplain.  The  venerable  divine,  with  his 
thin  locks  white  as  the  driven  snow,  was  looked  upon 
almost  with  veneration  by  the  soldiers.  His  addresses 
to  them  were  mostly  earnest  appeals  to  fight  manfully 
the  battles  of  freedom,  assuring  them  that  the  cause 
was  God's,  and  that  ultimate  victory  was  as  certain 
as  that  God's  promise  could  not  be  broken.  It  was  an 
affecting  sight  to  see  that  prophet  in  Israel  stand- 
ing on  the  tented  field,  surrounded  by  young  soldiers, 
urging  them  as  Ephraim  Macbriar  of  old  did  the  Cov- 
enanters, to  let  "  every  man's  hand  be  like  the  hand 
of  Sampson,  and  every  sword  like  that  of  Gideon  that 
turned  not  back  from  the  slaughter." 

He  was  too  infirm  to  follow  the  army  in  its  long 
and  toilsome  campaigns,  and  after  a  while  returned  to 
his  people.  The  war  passed  on  with  its  vicissitudes, 
but  in  the  gloomiest  hour,  when  hope  could  scarcely 
see  a  single  gleam  of  light  through  the  all-enclosing 
darkness,  his  faith  never  shook,  and  he  spoke  as 
confidently  then,  as  amid  the  exultation  of  a  great 
victory,  that  God  would  deliver  His  people.  He  lived 
to  see  his  predictions  verified,  and  sat  like  a  patriarch 

15* 


346  BENJAMIN     POMEROY. 

of  old  and  listened  with  tearful  eyes  and  overflowing 
heart  to  the  shouts  of  joy  that  rolled  over  the  ransomed 
land. 

He  died  Dec.  22nd;  1784;  in  the  eighty-first  year  of 
his  age. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

JOHN    ROGERS. 

IIis  Reputation  Abroad.— His  Patriotism. — Introduction  to  Washington.— 
Chaplain  in  Heath's  Brigade. — Resigns  and  goes  to  Georgia. — On  ma 
Return  made  Chaplain  to  the  New  York  Provincial  Assembly. — Becomes 
Member  of  the  Legislature.— Chancellor  or  the  Regents  op  the  Univer- 
sity. 

As  I  remarked  in  a  previous  chapter  the  career  of 
some  of  the  chaplains,  like  that  of  man)r  of  the  officers, 
was  marked  by  striking  events,  while  the  history  of  others 
has  perished  with  them,  and  their  immediate  descend- 
ants. There  are  others,  also,  whose  patriotic,  efforts 
and  sacrifices  are  known  only  as  general  facts,  but  not 
sufficient  details  have  been  preserved  to  make  an  ex- 
tended biography. 

Of  this  class  was  John  Rogers,  of  Boston,  who  was  so 
honored  even  in  Europe  for  his  talents  and  learning, 
that  in  1768  he  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Divinity  from  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  From 
the  commencement  of  the  revolution  his  whole  heart 
was  given  to  the  cause  of  the  colonies,  and  all  the  aid 
which  his  great  abilities  and  exalted  position  enabled 
him  to  furnish  was  cheerfully  rendered.  Before  hostil- 
ities had  actually  commenced,  he,  with  several  other 
clergymen,  held  a  weekly  prayer  meeting  in  behalf  of 
their  country,  and  strong  supplications  ascended  to  tho 
throne  of  grace  that  in  tho  conflict  which  they  clearly 


348  JOHN    ROGERS. 

foresaw  to  be  inevitable,  God  would  give  victory  to  the 
oppressed  colonies.  These  meetings  were  kept  up  until 
those  composing  it  were  compelled  to  flee  before  the 
approaching  enemy.  When  Washington,  on  the  19th 
of  April,  took  possession  of  New  York  for  its  defense, 
Dr.  Rogers,  with  several  other  gentlemen,  called  to  pay 
him  their  respects.  Washington  received  him  with 
marked  attention,  and  wdien  he  took  his  leave  followed 
him  to  the  door,  and  remarked  that  persons  in  Phila- 
delphia had  mentioned  him  as  one  who  could  render 
him  important  service,  and  asked  if  he  would  allow 
him  to  apply  to  him  for  information  whenever  he 
desired.  The  Doctor  assured  him  that  he  would 
gladly  do  anything  that  lay  in  his  power  to  serve 
liini  and  his  country.  Washington  did  often  consult 
him  afterwards,  and  found  him  an  ally  not  only  devo- 
ted to  his  country,  but  gifted  with  rare  intelligence 
and  foresight. 

In  May,  1776,  having  been  appointed  chaplain  in 
Heath's  brigade,  he  removed  his  family  to  Greenfidd, 
Conn.,  where  they  could  be  out  of  danger,  and  then 
returned  to  the  army  and  entered  on  the  duties  of  his 
office.  In  the  autumn,  having  private  business  to 
transact  in  Georgia,  he  resigned  his  chaplaincy.  In 
April,  the  next  year,  as  he  was  returning  north,  he 
was  informed  that  he  had 'keen  elected  chaplain  to  the 
New  York  State  Convention  then  in  session  at  Esopus. 
Paying  a  flying  visit  to  his  family  in  Greenfield  ho 
crossed  over  to  New  York  State  and  entered  on  his 
duties,  which  he  continued  to  perform  till  the  power 
of  the  Stato  was  lodged  in  a  council  of  safety,  when 


SETTLED     IN     NEW    YORK.  349 

he  served  as  chaplain  in  that  body.  He  brought  his 
family  on  to  Esopus,  and  remained  there  till  it  was 
burned  by  the  British,  when  he  removed  to  Sharon, 
Conn.  He  afterwards  became  a  member  of  the  Legis- 
lature, and  served  for  three  successive  years.  At  the 
close  of  the  war  he  was  enabled  to  return  to  his  congre- 
gation in  New  York  city,  but  he  found  the  parsonage 
burned  to  the  ground  and  the  sanctuary  in  ruins.  The 
vestry  of  Trinity  Church,  with  generous  liberality, 
offered  him  the  use  of  St.  George  and  St.  Paul's 
Churches  till  another  place  of  worship  could  be  erected, 
and  he  preached  alternately  in  them  through  the 
winter.  The  subject  of  one  of  his  first  discourses 
after  his  return  to  the  city  was  "The  Divine  G-oodness 
displayed  in  the  American  Revolution,"  which  was 
published.  When  the  Legislature  established  the  board 
of  "  Regents  of  the  University"  he  was  chosen  Vice- 
Chancellor,  and  held  that  office  till  his  death,  in  May, 
1811,  in  the  eighty-fourth  year  of  his  age. 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

GEORGE  DUFFIELD. 

Descended  from  the  Huguenots. — Studies  for  tite  Ministry. — Is  Settled  in 
Carlisle. — His  Parishioners  go  armed  to  Church. — IIis  Patriotism. — 
Settles  in  Philadelphia. — Kino's  Magistrate  attempts  to  stop  his  Preach- 
ing.—  IS  BROUGHT  UP  BEFORE  THE  MAYOR  ON  CHARGE  OF  BlQT. —  EXCITEMENT  OF 

the  People.— IIis  Popularity  with  Members  of  Congress. — Stirring  Ad- 
dress.—Becomes  Chaplain  in  the  Army. — Preaches  to  the  Soldiers  from 
the  Forks  of  a  Tree. — Buries  a  brother  Chaplain  aviio  has  been  Mur- 
dered.— Narrow  Escape. — Example  of  his  Faith. — IIis  Death. 

The  descendants  of  the  French  Huguenots  that 
were  living  in  America  at  the  time  of  the  revolution 
were  almost  without  exception  staunch  })atriots. 
Among  these  none  took  a  firmer  and  noblef  stand  than 
George  Duffield,  of  Pennsylvania.  His  ancestors  lied 
from  France  to  England  to  escape  religious  persecu- 
tion, and  thence  to  Ireland,  from  which  country  his 
immediate  parents  emigrated  to  America  and  settled 
in  Pequea,  Pennsylvania.  He  was  born  October  7th, 
1732,  and  received  his  education  at  Princeton  College. 
Graduating  in  1752  he  studied  theology  in  his  native 
town  under  Dr.  Eobcrt  Smith,  and  was  licensed  to 
preach  in  175G.  He  married  the  daughter  of  General 
Armstrong,  and  in  17G1  was  ordained  and  settled  over 
the  congregation  at  Carlisle. 

At  this  time  the  Indians  were  numerous  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  Church,  and  often  assumed  such  a 
hostile  attitude  that  the  male  members  attended  the 
Sabbath" services  fully  armed.     Sometimes  it  was  nee- 


SIDES     WITH     THE     COLONIES.  3  jl 

essary  to  go  in  pursuit  of  them  to  chastise  them  for 
acts  of  violence,  and  Mr.  Du  (field  always  accompanied 
the  expeditions,  sharing  with  his  parishioners  their 
privations  and  dangers. 

At  Monahan,  one  of  the  associate  churches  over 
which  he  presided,  they  were  compelled  from  the  ex- 
posed position  of  their  place  of  worship  to  surround  it 
with  fortifications,  and  men  were  stationed  on  the 
ramparts  during  service  to  give  notice  of  the  approach 
of  the  savages. 

In  such  a  stern  school  was  this  ardent  apostle  of 
liberty  reared.  The  readiness  with  which  he  shared  the 
perils  of  the  frontier  with  the  inhabitants,  and  the 
dauntless  courage  he  exhibited  on  all  occasions  of  dan- 
ger, made  him  known  far  and  wide,  and  bound  him  to 
the  hardy  yeomanry  of  the  country  in  the  warmest 
attachment. 

In  the  dispute  that  arose  between  the  colonies  and 
mother  country,  he  took  sides  at  once  and  fearlessly, 
with  the  former.  And  when  an  open  conflict  and  a  long 
and  wasting  war  were  seen  to  be  inevitable,  he  preached 
rebellion  as  a  duty,  and  declared  that  he  had  no  doubt 
that  God  would  carry  them  triumphantly  through  the 
struggle.  Before  his  patriotic  addresses  and  stirring 
eloquence,  despondency  gave  way  to  hope,  and  the 
spirit  of  determined  resistance  was  kindled  in  hearts 
that  before  thought  only  of  submission. 

At  this  time,  he  was  sent  in  company  with  Bev. 
Charles  Beatty  on  a  missionary  tour  to  the  scattered 
settlements  along  the  frontiers  of  Virginia,  Maryland 
and  Pennsylvania.     Returning  from  his  arduous  jour- 


3  52  GEORGE      DUE  FIELD. 

ney,  he  received  a  call  to  the  Third  Presbyterian  Church 
of  Philadelphia.  The  Colonial  Congress  was  then  in 
session  in  the  city,  and  consequently  the  greatest  ex- 
citement prevailed  among  the  inhabitants.  He  imme- 
diately took  a  bold  stand  on  the  side  of  Congress,  and 
denounced  sternly  and  fearlessly  the  encroachments  of 
the  mother  country.  The  people  flocked  to  hear  him, 
and  he  soon  became  an  object  of  dread  and  hate  to  the 
Tories,  who  sought  in  every  way  to  injure  him.  On 
one  occasion,  the  congregation  of  the  First  Presbyterian 
Church  invited  him  to  preach  in  their  large  place  of 
worship  on  Sunday  evening  when  the  officers  of  the  church 
hearing  of  it  closed  the  doors,  so  that  neither  minister 
nor  people  could  enter.  The  latter,  however,  deter- 
mined not  to  be  baffled,  and  prying  open  a  window, 
lifted  Mr.  Duffield  through  it.  They  then  unbolted 
the  doors,  and  the  eager  crowd  poured  in  and  filled  the 
edifice.  The  news  soon  spread  that  Mr.  Duffield  was 
addressing  the  people  on  the  Sabbath  evening.  The 
king's  magistrate  being  applied  to,  hastened  thither, 
and  forcing  his  way  through  the  crowd,  interrupted  the 
speaker  and  began  to  read  the  riot  act.  A  military 
officer  among  the  congregation,  by  the  name  of  Knox, 
rose  and  sternly  ordered  the  magistrate  to  stop.  The 
latter  replied  that  he  would  not,  and  again  commenced 
reading.  A  second  time  the  excited  officer,  in  a  voice 
of  thunder,  bade  him  hold  his  tongue  ;  but  the  magis- 
trate paid  no  attention  to  the  order,  and  went  on  with 
his  reading.  The  officer  was  a  powerful  man,  and 
seeing  his  orders  so  contemptuously  disobeyed,  cleared 
his  way  through  the  multitude,  and  seizing  the  aston- 


CHARGED     WITTI     EXCITING     RIOT.  353 

ished  magistrate,  bore  him  bodily  along  the  crowded 
aisle,  and  thrusting  him  out  of  doors,  bade  him  begone. 
Astounded  at  this  summary  ejection,  the  discomfited 
minion  of  the  king  took  himself  off,  and  Mr.  Duffield 
went  on  with  his  sermon.  The  next  day,  however,  he 
was  brought  before  the  mayor's  court  and  required  to 
plead  to  the  charge  of  aiding  and  abetting  a  riot,  and 
give  bail  for  his  appearance  for  trial.  He  politely,  but 
firmly,  refused  to  do  either,  asserting  his  rights  as  a 
minister  of  Christ,  and  denying  that  there  was  any  riot 
whatever,  except  such  as  the  king's  magistrate  himself 
had  created.  The  mayor,  a  kind-hearted  man,  said  if 
he  took  such  a  course,  the  court  would  be  compelled  to 
send  him  to  prison  ;  and  urged  him  to  get  bail,  saying 
he  would  take  as  such  any  of  his  numerous  friends 
then  in  court.  Mr.  Duffield  promptly  but  courteously 
declined.  The  mayor  then  offered  to  be  bail  himself. 
He  thanked  him  for  his  kindness,  and  assured  him  he 
felt  grateful  for  this  exhibition  of  his  good  will,  but 
declared  that  he  considered  it  his  sacred  duty  to  assert 
the  rights  of  a  minister  of  Christ  and  a  worshiping  as- 
sembly that  had  been  ruthlessly  invaded  by  a  king's 
magistrate.  The  mayor  was  in  a  quandary,  for  he 
knew  that  if  he  remanded  him  to  prison  there  would 
be  another  kind  of  a  riot — one  which  all  the  king's 
magistrates  in  the  colony  could  not  put  down.  He 
finally  said  he  wrould  postpone  his  decision  for  a  few 
days,  and  in  the  meantime  Mr.  Duffield  might  return 
home.  The  news  that  the  king's  government  was 
going  to  put  Mr.  Duffield,  the  patriot  clergyman,  in 
prison,  spread  like  wild  lire,  creating  the  most  intense 


354  GEORGE      DUFFIELD. 

cx  •itcmcnt.  It  flow  on  the  wings  of  the  wind  over  the 
country,  and  reaching  the  region  where  he  had  formerly 
lived,  the  volunteer  forces  there  called  the  "Paxton 
Boys,"  though  a  hundred  miles  distant,  met  and  passed 
a  resolution,  that  if  the  king's  government  dared  to 
imprison  Mr.  Duffield,  they  would  march  arms  in  hand 
to  Philadelphia  and  liberate  him  at  the  point  of  tho 
"bayonet.  The  worthy  mayor,  however,  seeing  the 
rcrious  course  things  were  taking,  never  called  him 
into  court  to  receive  judgment,  and  the  affair  was 
hushed  up. 

The  patriots  of  the  first  Congress  flocked  to  his 
church,  and  John  Adams  and  his  compeers  were  often 
his  hearers,  for  he  preached  as  Jonas  Clarke  had  before 
preached  at  Lexington. 

In  a  discourse  delivered  before  several  companies  of 
Pennsylvania  militia  and  members  of  Congress,  four 
months  before  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  ho 
took  bold  and  decided  ground  in  favor  of  that  step, 
an  I  plead  his  cause  with  sublime  eloquence,  which 
afterwards  made  him  so  obnoxious  to  the  British  that 
they  offered  a  reward  of  fifty  pounds  for  his  capture. 
He  declared  that  Heaven  designed  this  western  world 
as  the  asylum  for  liberty,  and  that  to  raise  its  banner 
h  ire  their  forefathers  had  sundered  the  dearest  ties  of 
home, friends  and  native  land,  and  braved  the  tempests 
of  the  ocean  and  the  terrors  of  the  wilderness.  Not 
through  the  fostering  care  of  Britain,  he  said,  had 
they  grown  and  flourished,  but  her  "tyranny  and  op- 
ision,  both  civil  and  ecclesiastical/'  had  driven  noble 
bouls  hither  '*  to  enjoy  in  peace  the  fair  possessions  of 


APPOINTED      CHAPLAIN.  355 

freedom."  "Tis  this/1  ho  exclaimed,  "has  reared  our 
cities,  and  turned  the  wilderness,  so  far  and  wide,  into 
a  fruitful  field.  And  can  it  be  supposed  that  the  Lord 
has  so  far  forgotten  to  be  gracious,  and  shut  up  His 
tender  mercies  in  His  wrath,  and  so  favored  the  arms 
of  oppression,  as  to  deliver  up  their  asylum  to  slavery 
and  bondage  ?  Can  it  be  supposed  that  that  God  who 
made  man  free,  and  engraved  in  indefaceable  characters 
the  love  of  liberty  in  his  mind,  should  forbid  freedom 
already  exiled  from  Asia  and  Africa,  and  under  sen- 
tence of  banishment  from  Europe — that  He  should 
forbid  her  to  erect  her  banners  here,  and  constrain  her 
to  abandon  the  earth  ?  As  soon  shall  He  subvert  cre- 
ation, and  forbid  the  sun  to  shine.  He  preserved  to  the 
Jews  their  cities  of  refuge,  and  whilst  sun  and  moon 
endure  America  shall  remain  a  city  of  refuge  for  the 
whole  earth,  until  she  herself  shall  play  the  tyrant, 
forget  her  destiny,  disgrace  her  freedom,  and  provoke 
her  God.  When  that  day  shall — if  ever  come — then, 
and  not  till  then,  shall  she  also  fall,  slain  with  them 
that  go  down  to  the  pit!'  In  such  strains  of  impas- 
sioned eloquence  did  he  sustain  his  high  argument  for 
liberty,  and  pour  his  own  brave,  glowing  soul  into  his 
excited  listeners,  till  they  were  ready,  when  he  ceased, 
to  shout,  u  To  arms!  to  arms!"  So  great  was  his 
zeal  in  the  cause  of  the  Colonies,  and  so  wide  was  his 
influence  known  to  be,  that  his  services  in  the  army 
were  sought  for  at  the  earliest  moment,  and  four  days 
after  the  Declaration  of  Independence  he  received  his 
commission  as  chaplain  in  the  Pennsylvania  militia. 
Although  he  had  great  influence  with   members  of 


356  GEORGE      DUFFIELD. 

Congress,  he  was  needed  especially  among  the  troops. 
This,  too,  was  the  place  for  him,  for  his  heart  was  with 
those  stru<™;lin2:  on  the  battle  field  more  than  with 
those  debating  in  Congress.  Whenever  any  perilous 
undertaking  was  attempted,  he  could  not  remain 
behind.  Accustomed  to  the  habits  and  peculiarities, 
as  well  as  the  privations  of  a  camp  life,  he  wielded 
great  influence  over  the  soldiers.  He  could  infuse 
courage  in  the  hour  of  danger,  and  cheer  the  disheart- 
ened in  disaster,  by  example,  precept  and  prayer. 
Bold  and  confident  himself,  he  inspired  confidence  in 
others.  He  was  well  known  in  camp,  and  his  visits 
were  always  welcome,  for  the  soldiers  loved  the  elo- 
quent, earnest,  fearless  patriot. 

When  the  enemy  occupied  Staten  Island,  and  the 
American  forces  were  across  the  river  on  the  Jersey 
shore,  he  repaired  to  camp  to  spend  the  Sabbath. 
Assembling  a  portion  of  the  troops  in  an  orchard,  he 
climbed  into  the  forks  of  a  tree  and  commenced  relia:- 
ious  exercises.  lie  gave  out  a  hymn,  and  as  the  sol- 
diers, like  the  troops  of  Cromwell  at  the  battle  of 
Dunbar,  "uplift  it  to  the  tune  of  Bangor  or  some 
still  higher  score,  and  rolled  it  strong  and  great  against 
the  sky,"  the  British  on  the  Island  heard  the  sound  of 
the  singing,  and  immediately  directed  some  cannon  to 
play  on  the  Orchard  from  whence  it  proceeded.  Soon 
the  heavy  shot  came  crashing  through  the  branches, 
or  went  singing  overhead,  arresting  for  a  moment  the 
voices  that  were  lifted  in  worship.  Mr.  Duffield,  to 
avoid  the  danger  and  escape  such  rude  interruption, 
proposed  they  should  adjourn  behind  an  adjacent  hil- 


RETREAT    THROUGH   NEW   JERSEY.       357 

lock.  They  did  so,  and  continued  their  worship  while 
the  iron  storm  hurtled  harmlessly  overhead.  The  deep 
thunder  of  the  heavy  cannon,  shaking  the  ground  on 
which  they  stood,  and  the  hissing  shot  filling  the  air 
with  their  mysterious  sounds,  were  not  calculated  to 
lessen  the  eloquent  patriot's  fervor,  or  quench  the  glow- 
ing zeal  that  inspired  him.  It  was  a  strange,  solemn 
scene,  yet,  withal  picturesque,  which  that  group  of 
soldiers  presented — listening  with  upturned  faces  to  the 
man  of  God  as  he  urged  them  to  light  manfully  the 
battles  of  the  Lord,  while  the  deep  voiced  cannon 
uttered  between  each  sentence  their  angry  notes  of 
defiance. 

When  the  army,  reduced  to  a  handful,  fled  through 
New  Jersey,  and  night  starless  and  rayless,  and  to 
human  seeming,  endless,  lay  on  the  land,  his  great 
sympathizing  heart  would  not  let  him  stay  at  home, 
and  he  kept  with  it,  sharing  its  hardships  and  expos- 
ures, and  striving  in  every  way  to  encourage  the  hearts 
of  the  soldiers.  In  this  disastrous  retreat  he  had  a 
forewarning  of  his  own  fate  should  he,  by  the  chances 
of  war,  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  British.  In  a  skir- 
mish, near  Trenton,  John  Rossburgh,  a  brother  chap- 
lain, lost  his  horse  and  was  taken  prisoner.  Seeing  his 
prayer  for  life  refused,  he  knelt  down  and  committed  his 
soul  in  prayer  to  his  Maker — and  while  in  this  attitude 
was  thrust  through  with  the  bayonet,  and  left  weltering 
in  his  blood.  Mr.  Duffield  found  the  body  hurriedly 
buried  by  the  neglected  way-side,  and  had  it  removed 
to  a  neighboring  grave-yard  and  decently  interred. 
A  similar  fate  would  be  his  own  should  he  be  taken, 


358  GEORGE     DUFFIELD. 

for  the  British  knew  that  every  such  rebel  parson  was 
more  dangerous  to  the  cause  of  the  Kin^;  than  a  whole 
regiment  of  militia. 

A  short  time  after,  he  had  a  narrow  escape  from  it. 
"Washington,  continuing  his  retreat,  abandoned  Prince- 
ton and  Trenton — destroying  the  bridges  over  the 
stream  near  the  latter  place  to  delay  the  enemy's  pur- 
suit. Mr.  Duffield,  worn  out  with  fatigue,  and  not 
being  apprised  of  this  movement,  had  retired  to  a  private 
house  near  by  to  snatch  a  moment's  repose.  In  the 
meantime,  the  bridges  were  being  rapidly  destroyed. 
A  Quaker,  who  knew  him,  for  he  had  once  befriended 
him  when  in  danger  from  his  principles,  seeing  what 
was  going  on,  endeavored  to  seek  him  out  and  warn 
him  of  his  danger.  He  had  by  some  means  ascertain- 
ed that  he  was  not  with  the  army  already  on  the  far- 
ther side  of  the  river,  and  hence  knew  he  must  be 
somewhere  in  the  place.  Alarmed  at  the  imminent 
danger  to  his  benefactor — for  he  was  aware  that  the 
British  had  set  a  price  on  his  head — he  hastened  hither 
and  thither,  and  at  last  found  him  quietly  taking  his 
repose,  wholly  unconscious  of  the  departure  of  the 
armv.  Informing  him,  in  a  hurried  manner,  of  the 
position  of  things,  he  told  him  that  in  a  few  minutes 
his  escape  would  be  hopelessly  cut  off.  Warmly  thank- 
ing the  Quaker  for  the  timely  information  he  had 
taken  such  trouble  to  give  him,  he  hastened  to  the 
door,  and  mounting  his  horse,  dashed  away  on  a  gallop 
for  the  nearest  bridge  and  overtook  the  rear  just  as 
they  had  crossed,  and  were  making  preparation!  to 
destroy  it. 


PROVIDENTIAL     RELIEF.  359 

Many  incidents  and  details  of  this  part  of  his  life 
are  lost  forever,  while  others  are  but  indistinctly  and 
partially  remembered,  serving  only  to  make  us  regret 
that  a  complete  account  of  his  career  as  one  of  the 
chaplains  and  patriotic  clergy  of  the  Revolution  can 
not  be  given.  His  zeal  for  his  country,  however,  never 
abated,  and  his  patriotic  efforts  never  ceased  till  peace 
and  liberty  blessed  the  land.  He  was  a  man  of  great 
humor  and  exuberant  spirits,  yet  withal  deeply  reli- 
gious in  his  feelings,  and  possessing  an  unwavering 
trust  in  the  promises  of  God.  Whether  it  was  his 
Buffering  country  or  his  suffering  family  that  weighed 
on  his  heart,  he  turned  with  an  undoubtin^  faith  to 
his  Heavenly  Father,  feeling  that  He  would  send  help 
in  His  own  good  time.  He  did  not  escape  the  priva- 
tions which  all  more  or  less  suffered,  and  often  his 
family  were  left  without  any  apparent  means  of  sub- 
sistence. On  one  occasion  his  son  came  to  him  on 
Saturday  night  and  said  they  were  nearly  out  of  pro- 
visions, and  unless  some  could  be  purchased  early 
Monday  morning  they  would  be  entirely  destitute. 
But  he  had  not  a  cent  in  his  pocket,  and  knew  not 
where  to  apply  for  aid,  for  all  around  him  were  as  des- 
titute as  himself.  Instead,  however,  of  allowing  his 
mind  to  be  distressed  at  the  prospect  before  him,  and 
diverted  from  the  duties  of  the  Sabbath,  he  dismissed 
the  subject,  saying,  " My  son,  the  Lord  will  provide." 
During  the  day  a  sealed  letter  was  put  in  his  hands, 
which,  in  accordance  with  a  rule  he  invariably  prac- 
tised, he  did  not  open  till  Monday  morning.  On  open- 
ing it  the  next  day  he  found  it  to  contain  a  sum  of 


360  GEORGE     DUFFIELD. 

money  sufficient  to  relieve  all  his  present  necessities. 
He  never  knew  who  sent  it. 

The  same  grand,  unwavering  faith  that  God  would 
finally  make  us  victorious  in  our  efforts  to  be  free, 
never  forsook  him  through  all  the  vicissitudes  of  the 
long  and  eventful  struggle  of  the  revolution. 

Faith  is  never  allowed  a  place  in  the  philosophy  of 
history,  when  events  are  being  traced  to  their  causes 
or  probable  results,  though  from  creation  till  now  it 
has  proved  stronger  than  all  physical  force.  But  that 
it  had  something  to  do  with  the  success  of  our  Kevo- 
lution,  none  but  a  disbeliever  in  the  Christian  religion 
can  doubt. 

With  the  return  of  peace,  Mr.  Du  (field  was  again 
quietly  settled  over  his  congregation  in  Philadelphia, 
where  he  remained  till  his  death,  in  February,  1790,  in 
the  fifty-eighth  year  of  his  age. 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

DAVID   SANDFORD. 

His  Patriotism. — His  Personal  Appearance. — TIis  Eloquence. — Gives  ni£ 
Salary  to  the  Cause  of  Liberty. — Becomes  Chaplain.— Expressive  Coun- 
tenance.— Anecdote  Illustrating  It. — Stern  11eruk.es. — His  Piety. — His 
Death. 

David  Sandford  was  born  in  New  Milford,  Con- 
necticut, December  11,  1737.  He  graduated  at  Yale 
College  in  1755,  and  after  finishing  his>  theological  ed- 
ucation was  licensed  to  preach,  and  settled  in  Med  way, 
Massachusetts.  Previous  to  the  commencement  of 
hostilities  he  was  an  earnest  advocate  of  the  cause  of 
the  Colonies,  and  when  war  actually  began  he  launched 
at  once  and  with  all  his  heart  into  the  struggle. 
Mingling  with  the  assemblies  of  the  people,  he  took  a 
leading  part  in  every  measure  adopted  for  a  vigorous 
defence  against  the  encroachments  of  Great  Britain. 

With  a  form  almost  perfect  in  its  symmetry  and 
majestic  bearing,  and  a  countenance  of  rare  beauty 
and  power  of  expression,  his  presence  always  arrested 
the  attention  of  the  beholder.  But  when  the  full,  rich 
tones  of  his  voice  fell  on  the  ear — now  ringing,  clear, 
like  the  call  of  a  bugle,  and  now  melting  into  the 
sweetest  and  most  plaintive  accents,  his  hearers  were 
held  as  by  fascination. 

Impassioned,  fearless,  and  knowing  well  how  to  use 
16 


362  DAVID      SANDFORD. 

the  rare  gifts  with  which  nature  had  endowed  him,  he 
mustered  all  who  came  under  the  spell  of  his  eloquence. 
His  high  courage  and  strong  will  made  him  restive 
under  temporizing,  timorous  counsels,  and  when  he 
arose  to  denounce  them,  his  face  wTas  like  a  thunder 
cloud  charged  with  wrath,  and  his  powerful  voice  broke 
in  startling  accents  on  the  audience.  With  such  a 
man  in  every  parish  in  the  land,  not  a  tory  would  have 
been  found  bold  enough  to  have  lifted  his  head  in  op- 
position. Patriotism  became  a  passion  with  him,  and 
when  he  called  on  his  people  to  bear  without  murmur- 
ing their  proportion  of  the  expenses  of  the  war,  he 
showed  them  an  example  of  self-sacrifice  by  throwing 
in  his  entire  salary  to  swell  the  public  treasury.  But 
even  this  did  not  content  him.  Not  only  did  he  devote 
his  rare  eloquence  and  yearly  stipend  to  the  common 
cause,  but  as  the  sound  of  war  rolled  over  the  land, 
hastened  to  the  army  and  volunteered  his  services  as  a 
chaplain.  He  gave  all  he  had  to  the  service  of  his 
country,  and  no  doubt  if  he  had  not  been  restrained  by 
his  profession  would  have  been  one  of  the  most  daring 
officers  in  the  army.  Indeed,  nature  had  endowed  him 
with  rare  gifts  for  a  military  leader.  His  commanding 
personal  appearance,  his  impulsive,  fearless  spirit,  and 
that  power  of  expression  in  mere  look,  which  will  carry 
men  farther  than  words,  eminently  fitted  him  to  be 
one.  This  power  of  the  countenance  can  never  be  de- 
scribed any  more  than  it  can  be  resisted.  Washington 
had  it. 

As  an  illustration  of  it  in  Mr.  Sandford,  he  was  once 
preaching   to  the  troops  in   a   somewhat   dilapidated 


EXPRESSIVE     COUNTENANCE.         3G3 

church,  -when  a  board,  which  had  been  placed  in  one 
of  the  shattered  windows,  blew  down.  The  soldiers  in 
putting  it  back  made  so  much  noise  that  he  was  com- 
pelled to  stop  in  his  sermon.  The  board  again  being 
blown  in,  the  soldiers,  the  second  time,  replaced  it, 
arresting  the  services  by  the  confusion  they  made. 
The  third  time  it  fell  in,  and  the  soldiers  rushing  to 
put  it  back,  he  thundered  out  u  let  that  board  alone." 
One  look  at  the  pulpit  and  they  slunk  back  to  their 
places.  After  the  services  were  over  a  citizen  asked 
the  commanding  officer  how  he  liked  the  eloquent 
preacher.  He  replied,  "Very  well,  but  I  should  have 
liked  him  better  if  he  had'nt  sworn  so."  M  Sworn, 
Captain,"  exclaimed  the  man,  UI  did'nt  hear  any 
oath."  "Yes,  he  did,"  replied  the  former,  "he  said 
(repeating  a  fearful  oath)  let  that  board  alone."  "You 
certainly  are  mistaken,  he  uttered  no  oath  whatever." 
"  Well,"  replied  the  Captain,  "  if  he  did  not  say  those 
very  words  he  looked  them."  This  became  a  bye-word, 
and  in  after  years  whenever  his  brother  ministers  saw 
the  frown  of  displeasure  darkening  his  open,  manly 
brow,  they  would  say  good-naturedly,  "  don't  sivcar 
so."  His  features  had  the  same  power  to  express 
the  softer  emotions,  and  when  moved  with  pity,  or 
pleading  with  sinners,  would  melt  the  most  stubborn 
heart.  The  soldiers  not  only  reverenced  him  for  his 
devoted  piety,  and  loved  him  for  his  lofty  patriotism, 
but  they  admired  him  for  his  personal  presence.  Not 
an  officer  in  the  brigade  rode  his  horse  with  such 
incomparable  grace  and  ease  as  he.  His  known  inflex- 
ibility of  purpose,  abrupt  and  often  stern  manner,  also 


364  DAVID     SAXDFORD. 

pleased  them.  These  traits  sometimes  caused  him  to 
be  charged  with  want  of  courtesy.  Once  a  clownish, 
shabbily  dressed  licentiate  asked  him  what  system  of 
divinity  he  would  recommend  him  to  study,  he  replied, 
with  his  stern  expression  of  countenance,  "  Lord 
Chesterfield  to  you."  So  on  another  occasion,  a  young 
preacher  telling  him  that  he  had  refused  a  call  to  a 
certain  place  on  account  of  an  extensive  pine  swamp 
in  the  vicinity,  he  turned  upon  him,  "  Young  man,  it 
is  none  of  your  business  where  God  has  put  his  pine 
swamps."  Notwithstanding  these  peculiarities  he  was 
a  devoted  minister,  and  one  who  knew  him  well  says, 
"  His  name  was  associated  with  early  attempts  to 
propagate  the  gospel  in  the  new  settlements,  and  every 
fresh  effort  that  was  put  forth  for  the  promotion  of 
Christianity,  no  matter  on  which  side  of  the  water, 
met  with  his  cordial  and  grateful  approval. 

As  a  counsellor  he  was  sought  after  by  the  churches, 
and  was  not  unfrequently  called  away  a  great  distance 
to  aid  in  healing  ecclesiastical  divisions.  In  1807 
he  Avas  struck  with  paralysis,  from  which  he  never 
recovered,  and  after  languishing  three  years,  a  suffering 
invalid,  he  died,  being  in  the  seventy-fourth  year  of 
his  a^re. 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

NATHAX   KER. 

His  Birth  and  Ancestry. — .Yneodote  of  his  Grandfather. — His  Patriotism  — 
Abjures  all  Allegiance  to  Great  Britain. — Tories  and  Indians. — Mas- 
sacre at  Minisink. — Slaughter  of  Mr.  Ker's  Congregation. — xVnecdote  of 
Him  and  Lafayette. — A  Friend  of  Washington. — Loans  the  Goyernment 
Eight  Thousand  Dollars,  for  which  He  received  Nothing  but  "  Old  Lib- 
erty."— Celebration  at  the  Close  of  the  War. 

Nathan  Ker,  of  Goshen,  Orange  County,  hardly 
comes  under  the  head  of  chaplains,  because  he  received 
no  special  commission  in  the  army,  yet  he  had  a  gen- 
eral permit  to  pass  through  the  forces  and  fortresses 
scattered  over  West  Point,  Fishkill  and  Newburgh, 
as  a  minister  to  exercise  his  functions  as  he  saw 
proper. 

He  was  born  in  Freehold,  New  Jersey,  September 
7th,  1736,  and  embraced  religion  under  the  preaching 
of  the  celebrated  William  Tennent.  Devoting  himself 
at  once  to  the  gospel  ministry,  he  entered  Princeton 
College,  and  completing  his  education  was  licensed  in 
1763.  For  some  years  he  labored  as  an  itinerant,  the 
field  of  his  duties  extending  over  a  thousand  miles 
along  the  continent.  Subsequently  he  settled  in 
Goshen,  where  he  remained  till  his  death  in  1804. 
He  took  decided  ground  against  the  mother  country  in 
her  unjust  demands  on  the  Colonies,  and  when  hostili- 
ties commenced,  and   American  blood   was   shed,  he 


366  NATHAN     KER. 

called  together  his  entire  family,  and  making  it  an  act 
of  religious  worship,  solemnly  abjured  all  allegiance  to 
the  British  king  and  government,  and  took  an  oath  be- 
fore God  to  stand  firm  and  true  to  his  country.  Tall 
and  commanding  in  person,  he  bore  so  strong  a  resem- 
blance to  Washington  that  he  was  often  called  "  the 
General/'  Of  a  firm  and  fearless  spirit,  he  exerted  the 
wide  influence  he  wielded,  zealously  and  successfully  for 
the  cause  of  liberty.  He  came  honestly  by  his  love  of 
freedom  and  unyielding  opposition  to  tyranny,  for  his 
grandfather  before  him  suffjred  persecutions  in  Scotland 
for  exhibiting  the  same  noble  spirit.  The  latter  being 
asked  one  day  (when  such  a  question  tested  to  the 
utmost  the  courage  of  a  man),  "  Who  was  the  head 
of  the  Church  ?"  fearlessly  replied,  "  The  Lord  Jesus 
Christ/'  That  same  night  he  received  warning  that  ho 
had  better  leave  the  kingdom.  He  immediately  fled  to 
the  mountains  and  hid  himself  in  caves.  But  hunted 
from  one  place  of  concealment  to  another  like  a  beast 
of  prey,  he  finally  made  his  escape  to  America.  It  was 
but  natural  that  the  descendant  of  such  a  sire  should 
be  a  bold  and  uncompromising  advocate  of  both  civil 
and  religious  liberty. 

The  whole  region  around  Goshen  was  for  a  long  time 
subject  to  the  ravages  of  the  Indians  and  Tories,  and 
Count  Pulaski  was  stationed  at  Minisink,  near  by, 
with  a  body  of  cavalry  to  protect  it.  When,  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1779,  this  gallant  officer  was  ordered  to  South 
Carolina  to  aid  General  Lincoln,  the  Indians  and  Tories 
once  more  took  the  field  ;  and  in  the  following  July 
made  a  descent  upon  the  town,  killing  and  scattering 


FIGHT     WITH     INDIANS.  367 

the  inhabitants,  and  burning  their  dwellings.  When 
the  news  reached  Goshen,  Dr.  Tusten,  colonel  of  the 
militia,  ordered  his  troops  to  meet  him  at  Minisink, 
the  next  day,  with  as  many  volunteers  as  would  join 
him.  The  congregation  of  such  a  fearless  patriot  as 
Mr.  Ker  would  not  hesitate  in  a  crisis  so  alarming,  and 
a  hundred  and  forty-nine  were  at  the  rendezvous  the 
next  morning.  The  flower  of  his  flock  were  all  there. 
After  a  short  consultation,  the  intrepid  little  band 
started  in  pursuit  of  the  Indians  and  were  joined  on  the 
way  by  a  small  force  from  Warwick,  which  swelled 
their  number  to  a  hundred  and  sixty  or  seventy  men. 

Ascertaining  from  some  of  the  inhabitants  who  had 
escaped  the  massacre,  that  the  marauding  party  was  too 
large  for  the  small,  undisciplined  force  under  him,  Col- 
onel Tusten  advised  to  give  over  the  pursuit,  but  Major 
Meeker  mounting  his  horse,  and  waving  his  sword 
and  shouting,  "Let  the  brave  men  follow  me,  the 
cowards  may  stay  behind/'  swept  away  alt  caution  and 
prudence,  and  amid  shouts  of  excitement  they  streamed 
forward  on  the  trail  of  the  savages. 

Continuing  their  march  all  night  they  came,  at  sun- 
rise, upon  the  smouldering  camp-fires  of  the  Indians, 
which  the  latter  had  apparently  but  just  left.  The 
number  of  these,  showing  clearly  how  large  the  force 
was,  again  brought  the  officers  to  a  stand,  and  a  coun- 
cil was  called  to  decide  whether  to  continue  or  abandon 
the  pursuit.  The  majority  were  in  favor  of  the  latter 
course,  but  the  minority  scoffing  at  the  decision  as 
cowardly,  the  majority  yielded,  and  the  march  was 
resumed.      Brandt,   who    commanded    the    tories  and 


368  NATHAN     KER, 

Indians,  being  made  aware  by  his  scouts  of  the  num- 
ber and  movements  of  the  Americans,  resolved  at  once 
on  their  destruction.  At  nine  in  the  morning,  the 
latter  having  ascended  a  hiffh  hill  overlooking  the  Del- 

o  o  o 

aware,  saw  the  enemy  below  them  making  toward  a 
ford  of  the  river.  They  immediately  determined  to  in- 
tercept them -there,  and  made  their  dispositions  accord- 
ingly. But  the  moment  they  descended  the  heights,  and 
some  intervening  hills  shut  them  from  sight,  Brandt 
wheeled  his  column,  and  plunging  into  a  deep,  narrow 
ravine,  marched  rapidly  back  until  he  got  in  their  rear, 
and  then  burst  with  his  fearful  war-cry  upon  them. 
The  Americans,  though  taken  completely  by  surprise, 
met  the  onset  of  the  savages  firmly,  but,  overwhelmed 
by  numbers,  were  gradually  borne  back  until  they 
occupied  scarce  an  acre  of  ground  on  the  top  of  a 
rocky  hill.  Here,  in  a  hollow  square,  they  withstood 
their  assailants  hour  after  hour,  until  the  hot  July 
sun  stooped  behind  the  western  wilderness.  Darkness 
was  now  coming  on,  and  their  ammunition  began  to 
give  out.  No  longer  able  to  keep  at  bay  their  savage 
assailants,  their  firm  formation  was  broken,  and  the 
battle  became  a  massacre.  The  nisdit  was  made  hide- 
ous  with  frantic  yells,  while  the  gleaming  tomahawk 
descended  on  the  strong  and  helpless  alike.  Of  all 
that  gallant  little  band,  only  thirty  remained  to  tell 
the  story  of  how  they  fought,  and  how  they  fell.  Mr. 
Ker's  congregation  the  next  Sabbath  was  clad  in 
mourning,  for  most  of  the  young  men  that  composed 
it  hid  been  slain,  while  thirty-three  widows  present, 
told  how  fearful  the  blow  had  fallen  on  heads  of  fain- 


ANECDOTE  OF  LAFAYETTE.     369 

ilics.  He  himself  repaired  to  the  bloody  field,  and 
spent  the  whole  night  with  one  of  his  aged  parishion- 
ers searching  for  the  dead  body  of  his  son. 

The  remembrance  of  this  massacre  made  the  troops 
of  Sullivan  look  with  grim  exultation  afterwards  on 
the  burning  paradise  of  the  Senecas  and  Cayugas,  to 
which  they  had  applied  the  avenging  torch. 

A  curious  anecdote  of  Lafayette,  in  connection  with 
Mr.  Ker,  has  been  related  to  me  by  one  of  the  descend- 
ants of  the  latter.  While  Washington  lay  at  Bran- 
dywine  he  had  occasion  to  despatch  Lafayette  with 
orders  to  a  portion  of  the  army  in  New  York  State. 
The  latter  stopped  on  his  way  at  an  inn  in  Sussex  Co., 
N.  J.,  where  he  was  compelled  to  sleep  in  the  same 
room  with  another  traveler.  When  he  awoke  in  the 
morning  he  found  his  fellow  lodger  gone,  and  on  dress- 
ing himself  discovered  that  some  valuable  jewels  and  a 
miniature  had  been  abstracted  from  his  pockets.  Be- 
ing entrusted  with  important  despatches,  he  could  not 
stop  to  take  any  measures  for  the  recovery  of  his  prop- 
erty, and  hastened  on  his  way.  He  made  efforts,  how- 
ever, at  every  place  through  which  he  passed,  to  obtain 
tidings  of  the  robber.  Reaching  Goshen,  he  endeavor- 
ed  to  make  the  landlord  of  the  tavern  where  he  halted, 
acquainted  with  his  troubles,  but  being  unable  to 
speak  English  was  wholly  unsuccessful.  The  only 
sentence  he  could  utter  so  as  to  be  understood  was,  "  De 
lecture  of  de  lady,"  "  De  picture  of  de  lady,"  and  'De 
picture  of  the  lady'  was  constantly  on  his  tongue,  ac- 
companied with  many  anxious  gestures.  No  one  in 
the  place  understanding  French  the  rest  of  his  Ian- 

16* 


370  NATHAN    KER. 

guage  could  not  be  made  out.  They  saw  he  was  an 
officer  of  rank,  and  hence  were  exceedingly  anxious  to 
understand  his  wants,  and  as  a  last  resort  took  him  to 
their  pastor,  thinking  that  he  might  be  able  to  compre- 
hend him.  Mr.  Ker  did  not  understand  French,  but 
inferring  from  the  appearance  of  the  stranger  that  he 
was  an  educated  man,  addressed  him  in  Latin.  The 
countenance  of  the  latter  brightened  at  once,  for  he 
had  at  last  found  a  medium  through  which  he  could 
make  his  troubles  and  wishes  known.  Mr.  Ker  soon 
understood  the  whole  case,  and  drawing  from  him  an 
accurate  description  of  his  fellow  lodger,  he  sat  down 
and  wrote  several  placards,  describing  the  man  and 
stating  the  robbery.  These  he  told  the  stranger  to 
distribute  freely  on  his  route.  The  latter  thanked 
him  profusely,  and  taking  his  departure,  mounted  his 
horse  and  hastened  forward.  A  fortnight  after,  Mr. 
Ker  was  surprised  by  a  second  visit  from  the  stranger, 
who,  after  warmly  thanking  him  for  his  kindness, 
stated  that  through  it  he  had  been  able  to  secure  the 
robber  and  recover  his  property.  He  then,  to  the 
astonishment  of  the  clergyman,  introduced  himself  as 
Lafayette,  and  added,  that  the  miniature,  the  loss  of 
which  affected  him  more  than  that  of  his  jewels,  was 
a  portrait  of  his  wife. 

Mr.  Ker's  second  daughter  married  the  son  of  the 
hero  patriot  and  martyr,  Kev.  John  Caldwell,  whom 
Lafayette  took  to  his  home  at  La  Grange,  and  educa- 
ted as  a  son  of  his  own. 

During  the  latter  part  of  the  war,  Lafayette,  Ro- 
chambeau,  and  Count  do  Grasso  were  accustomed  to 


FOURTH    OF    JULY.  371 

visit  the  patriotic  divine  as  personal  friends.  Wash- 
ington, also,  was  warmly  attached  to  him,  and  when 
at  West  Point  and  Newburgh  frequently  invited  him 
to  dinner  at  head-quarters. 

Out  of  his  moderate  fortune,  this  good  man  loaned 
the  government  eight  thousand  dollars,  for  which  ho 
received  nothing  in  return  except  an  old  blind  horse, 
which  he  caused  to  he  tenderly  cared  for,  and  which, 
as  a  memento  of  the  past,  was  christened  "  Old  Lib- 
erty." 

When  the  war  was  over  he  had  a  celebration  on  the 
4th  of  July  in  his  parish,  at  which  thirteen  young 
ladies  dressed  in  white,  with  green  sashes,  and  crowned 
with  laurel  wreaths,  appeared,  representing  the  thir- 
teen States.  As  the  venerable  man  looked  over  the 
crowded  seats,  radiant  with  joyful  faces,  his  heart 
overflowed  with  devout  thankfulness  and  he  recounted 
the  past,  and  told  how  the  Lord  had  led  His  people, 
as  He  did  Israel  of  old,  to  the  promised  land,  till 
the  tears  of  his  audience  were  minded  with  his  owrn. 


•   • 


CHAPTER    XL. 

jonx  HURST. 

His  Patriotism. — Sermon  to  TnE  Soldiers. 

John  Hurst  was  chaplain  to  the  4th,  5th  and  6th 
battalions  of  Virginia  troops  that  served  in  New  Jersey 
in  1777.  He  wTas  a  fearless  man  and  an  ardent  patriot, 
while  no  one  more  faithfully  discharged  his  ministerial 
duties  than  he.  No  incidents  of  his  life  have  comeuto 
my  knowledge  that  require  a  particular  notice.  The 
character  of  the  man,  however,  and  the  manner  in  which 
lie  performed  the  duties  of  chaplain,  may  be  gathered 
from  the  following  extracts  from  a  sermon  preached  by 
him  to  the  Virginia  battalions,  April  20th,  1777.  The 
sermon  is  dedicated  to  General  Stephens — the  dedica- 
tory note  closing  with  the  following  pithy  sentence  : 
"For  after  all  the  definitions  of  patriotism  that  ever 
"was  or  ever  will  bo  given,  this  is  the  quintessence  of  it, 
the  opposing  ourselves  foremost  in  the  field  of  battle 
against  the  enemies  of  our  country."  lie  took  for  his 
text,  Psalm  exxxvii.  5,  G  :  "  If  I  forget  thee,  oh  Jeru- 
salem, let  my  right  hand  forget  her  cunning.  If  I  do 
not  remember  thee,  let  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof 
of  my  mouth  ;  if  I  prefer  not  Jerusalem  abuve  my 
chief  joy/' 

u  Reflections  upon  past  enjoyments  tend  only  to  the 


PATRIOTIC      DISCOURSE  373 

aggravation  of  present  sufferings,  and  yet  I  know  not 
how — the  mind  of  man  is  ever  fondly  disposed  to  draw 
the  painful  parallel  betwixt  the  happiness  he  once  pos- 
sessed and  the  misery  he  now  feels.  This  was  true  of 
the  captive  Israelites,  as  is  pathetically  described  in  the 
Psalm  before  us.  i  By  the  rivers  of  Babylon  there  we 
sat  down,  yea,  we  wept  when  we  remembered  Zion. 
We  hanged  our  harps  upon  the  willows  in  the  midst 
thereof/  As  the  soul  in  affliction  is  ever  apt  to 
dwell  upon  any  circumstance  which  heightens  the 
soitow,  he  here  represents  the  harp,  that  sacred 
instrument  devoted  to  his  God,  now  laid  aside, 
silent  and  neglected,  for  how  indeed  could  he  'sing 
the  Lord's  song  in  a  strange  land/  Oppression  and 
servitude  throw  a  damp  upon  every  noble  faculty, 
no  wonder,  then,  the  sacred  musician  could  ill  exert 
the  heavenly  harmony  under  the  dispiriting  pressure 
of  a  foreign  tyranny.  %  How  shall  we  sing  the 
Lord's  song/  &c.  Here  the  faithful  patriot  turns 
by  a  very  natural  transition  from  lamenting  over 
his  country's  fate  to  the  strongest  professions  of  pre- 
serving his  affections  forever  inviolate  towards  her. 
'  If  I  forget  her,  may  my  right  hand  forget  her  cun- 
ning. If  I  do  not  remember  thee,  let  my  tongue  cleave 
to  the  roof  of  my  mouth  ;  if  I  prefer  not  Jerusalem 
above  my  chief  joy/  " 

Starting  from  this  point  he  discourses  eloquently  of 
the  love  of  country  as  acknowledged  and  honored  in 
all  past  times  among  the  Romans,  and  the  obligations 
each  one  is  under  to  act  for  his  country,  and  of  the  mo- 
tives that  prompt  him  to  it,  and  then  says  :  "  Let  us 


374  john    huhst. 

change  the  scene  and  take  a  cursory  view  of  our  own 
case.  Thanks  and  praise  be  to  the  Lord  God  of  armies, 
it  is  our  felicity  not  to  be  members  of  such  a  society, 
not  to  be  in  so  abject  and  humiliating  a  state  as  those 
Koman  colonies  were.  We  have  never  yet  been  con- 
quered— we  never  yet  tamely  received  laws  from  a 
tyrant,  nor  never  will  while  the  cause  of  religion,  the 
cause  of  nature  and  of  nature's  God  cry  aloud,  or  even 
whisper  resistance  to  an  oppressor's  execrated  power. 
The  gloomy  cloud  that  has  long  been  gathering  and 
hovering  over  Jerusalem  is  indeed  still  formidable,  and 
demands  our  utmost  exertions  to  effect  its  dispersion,  and 
this  great  and  wished-for  good  is,  in  all  human  proba- 
bility, the  most  likely  to  be  accomplished  by  firmness, 
unanimity,  perseverance  and  a  fixed  determination, 
strenuously  to  execute  and  defend  what  our  Conti- 
nental Congress,  provincial  assemblies  and  command- 
ing officers,  and  so  forth,  shall  wisely  and  prudently 
resolve. 

M  '  Let  fools  for  modes  of  government  contest, 
That  which  is  best  administered  is  best.'  " 

He  then  describes  the  kind  of  liberty  for 
which  they  are  contending.  "It  is  not/'  he  says, 
"  licentiousness,  nor  a  war  of  conquest/'  but  a 
struggle  for  "  their  rights,  the  very  liberty  England 
always  contended  for,  and  which  has  made  her  glo- 
rious." 

His  sermons  were  always  well  adapted  to  in- 
spire the  soldiers  who  listened  to  them  with  the 
deepest    attention.     A   good    man,   and    an    earpest 


STAND     FOR     FREEDOM.  375 

patriot,  he,  with  the  thousand  other  clergymen  of 
the  land,  presented  a  noble  front  in  the  cause  of 
freedom,  and  helped  to  swell  the  lofty  enthusiasm 
that  seven  long  years  of  toil  and  suffering  could  not 
quench. 


CHAPTER    XLI. 

WILLIAM    McKAY   TEXXEXT. 

Uncertainty  as  to  his  Identity  with  the  subject  of  the  Following  Sketch. — 
Patriotic  Sermon  delivered  before  the  Troops  at  Ticonderoga. — His  Ca- 
reer after  the  War.— If  is  Death. 

There  were  several  Tennents  who  were  clergymen 
at  the  time  of  the  Revolutionary  war,  and  who  took 
an  active  part  in  the  struggle  of  the  Colonies.  One 
was  a  chaplain  in  the  army  at  Ticonderoga,  and 
though  I  can  not  positively  ascertain  which,  circum- 
stances all  seem  to  point  to  William  McKay  Tennent, 
who  was  born  in  1741.  He  graduated  at  the  college 
of  New  Jersey  in  1763,  and  was  ordained  to  preach  in 
1772.  He  married  the  daughter  of  Dr.  Rodgers,  of 
New  York,  a  distinguished  patriot,  and  a  chaplain  in 
the  army,  and  was  settled  in  Greenfield,  Connecticut. 
He  was  a  man  of  polished  manners,  and  distinguished 
for  his  amiability  of  temper  and  generous  hospitality. 
Nothing  is  known  of  his  career  as  chaplain  except  the 
following  sermon  : 

"  Delivered  at  the  head  of  Cols.  Mott's  and  Swift's 
regiments  when  under  arms,  expecting  the  approach 
of  the  enemy  hourly,  at  Mount  Independence,  Sunday, 
October  20th,  177G. 

"  Be  not  ye  afraid  of  them  :  remember  the  Lord, 
which  is  great  and  terrible,  and  fight  for  your  brethren, 


SERMON     TO     SOLDIERS.  377 

your  sons,  find  your  daughters,  your  wives,  and  your 
houses/'     Nehemiah,  iv.  14. 

u  No  exultation  can  be  more  applicable  and  perti- 
nent for  us,  my  dear  countrymen  and  fellow-soldiers, 
at  this  time,  and  under  our  circumstances,  than  this 
which  was  delivered  by  good  Nehemiah  to  the  Jews, 
when  their  proud,  their  haughty,  and  oppressive  ene- 
mies were  coming  upon  them  for  their  destruction. 

"  When  danger  approaches  it  is  natural  for  man  to 
be  afraid,  and  our  fears  generally  increase  in  proportion 
to  our  dangers,  and  sometimes  by  indulging  the  former 
we  are  rendered  incapable  of  escaping  the  evil  which 
impends.  It  is,  therefore,  necessary  to  keep  a  guard 
upon  this  passion  lest,  in  its  excess,  it  should  prove 
ruinous.  This  is  necessary  in  an  especial  manner  for 
the  soldier.  i  Be  not  ye  afraid  of  them '  is  the  voice 
of  Heaven,  the  voice  of' your  bleeding  country,  the 
voice  of  the  Church,  and  the  voice  of  all  who  are  dear 
to  you — with  respect  to  the  approaching  foe.  The 
hour  is  expected  when,  with  the  blessing  of  Heaven, 
you  will  have  it  in  your  power  to  do  the  most  signal, 
important,  and  lasting  services  to  your  native  land. 
She  asks,  she  entreats,  she  calls  with  a  solemn,  but 
pathetic  tone — yea,  she  demands  your  service,  your 
most  vigorous  exertions  to  save  her  from  ruin.  Let 
her  not  be  disappointed,  but,  as  she  has  honored  you 
with  martial  attire  for  her  defense,  do  her  honor,  do 
yourselves  honor  by  using  the  weapons  of  your  warfare 
with  that  heroism,  firmness,  and  magnanimity  which 
the  cause  requires.  When  our  enemy  approaches,  be 
ye  not  afraid  of  him  ;  let  not  your  spirits  sink,  but 


378  WILLIAM    MCKAY    TENNKNT, 

rather  rejoice  that  you  liavo  an  opportunity  to  con- 
tribute your  whole  might  fjr  the  deliverance  of  your 

country  from  the  disturbers  of  the  common  peace,  and 
robbers  of  the  rights  of  mankind.  I  mean  not  that 
you  should  entertain  a  contemptible  idea  of  the 
strength  of  your  enemy.  They  will  no  doubt  come 
strong  prepared  to  the  battle,  and  will  fight  valiantly. 
But  they  fight  in  an  unrighteous  cause — they  are 
armed  to  deprive  us  of  our  liberty  and  property,  they 
arc  armed  to  ruin  our  families,  to  murder  both  them 
and  us,  or  to  reduce  us  to  the  most  abject  slavery. 
And  will  not  you,  gentlemen,  under  these  circumstan- 
ces, fight  valiantly,  too.  Shall  your  courage  be  less 
than  theirs  when  all  is  at  stake.  Consider  they  arc 
made  of  the  same  materials  with  yourselves.  Though 
transported  from  foreign  climes,  they  are  flesh  and 
blood.  They  are  but  men,  subject  to  the  like  hopes 
and  fears  with  yourselves,  and  a  ball  well  directed  will 
humble  them  as  quick  as  any,  even  the  feeblest  of  you. 
Be  not  ye,  therefore,  afraid  of  them,  for  they  are  not 
invincible.  Be  not  afraid  of  them,  because  they  arc 
eni>;aired  in  a  wicked  and  unrighteous  cause,  which  the 
righteous  Lord  abhorreth.  Be  not  afraid  of  them 
though  their  numbers  should  be  superior  to  yours, 
because  you  are  possessed  of  advantages  which  they 
have  Dot — you  have  the  ground,  and  all  the  works  you 
have  made  on  it.  Be  not  afraid  of  them,  because 
the  want  of  courage  will  prove  your  ruin.  There  is 
nothing  but  victory,  or  an  honourable  death  before 
yoil.  There  is  no  retreat  for  you.  and  if  you  are  taken 
prisoner^  no  doubt  you  will  soon  be  discharged  as  our 


SERMON    TO    SOLDIERS.  379 

friends  who  were  lately  captured  were,  with  their  bag- 
gage and  a  few  days'  provision,  but  with  this  additional 
and  horrid  circumstance,  that  before  you  are  two  miles 
from  this  encampment  you  will  be  overtaken  in  your 
disarmed  condition  by  savages,  Canadians,  and  Hes- 
sians, who  will  at  once  plunder  you,  and  sacrifice  your 
lives  with  a  barbarity  which  can  not  be  described. 
Gen.  Carleton's  late  conduct  was  only  designed  to 
deceive — his  clemency  is  to  be  dreaded.  Expect  not 
mercy  from  an  enemy,  who  is  fighting  in  support  of 
tyranny  ;  it  can  not,  it  will  not  be  shown  any  longer 
than  it  is  for  his  interest.  The  scheme  of  this  cun- 
ning man  is  evidently  this — he  supposed  that  you 
would  conclude  from  what  was  past,  that  if  you  were 
compelled  to  a  hot  engagement,  you  would  rather 
submit,  expecting  the  same  lenity  which  your  captive 
friends  have  had,  than  fight  as  the  sons  of  freedom 
ought  to  fight.  Let  the  fox  be  catched  in  his  own 
trap.  Believe  him  to  be  your  bitter  enemy,  and  ac- 
cording to  Scripture  language,  reward  your  enemies, 
and  your  country's  enemies  even  as  they  have  rewarded 
you,  and  render  double  to  them.  Be  not  afraid  of 
them  :  remember  the  Lord,  which  is  great  and  terrible. 
Call  to  remembrance  His  Almighty  name.  Let  the 
strength  of  Israel  be  your  trust.  Implore  His  aid  and 
assistance.  Under  His  banner  go  forth  to  battle.  In 
His  name  and  strength  meet  the  approaching  foe, 
determined  to  conquer  or  gloriously  die.  Remember 
His  name,  which  is  great  and  terrible — sufficiently 
great  and  terrible  to  vanquish  your  enemies,  and  cause 
them  to  flee  before  you  :  and  fight  for  your  brethren, 


380  WILLIAM    McKAY     TENNENT. 

your  sons,  anil  your  daughters,  your  wives,  and  your 
homes.  Do  the  work  of  the  Lord  faithfully.  Play 
the  men  for  your  kindred  and  your  estates,  which  are 
in  jeopardy.  So  shall  those  of  you  who  fall  in  battle 
bj  immortalized  for  your  valor  :  your  names  shall  be 
had  in  grateful  remembrance  by  America's  latest 
posterity  ;  and  those  of  you,  whose  lives  shall  be  spar- 
ed in  the  bloody  conflict,  shall  return  with  great  joy 
to  your  friends,  and  be  received  with  the  high  honor 
of  conquerors  and  deliverers  of  this  oppressed  land. 
Your  officers,  I  doubt  not,  will  set  you  an  example, 
and  I  hope  you  will  all  be  engaged  to  support  the  honor 
of  New  England,  and  of  the  State,  in  a  particular 
manner,  which  has  employed  you.  Your  wives  and 
children,  your  aged  parents,  your  brethren  and  sisters, 
look  to  you,  under  God,  for  salvation.  The  peace  of 
all  our  frontier  inhabitants  depends  upon  your  success. 
You  have  the  prayers  of  thousands  for  victory,  and  be 
assured,  if  you  are  victorious,  the  enemy  will  from 
henceforward  cease  to  expect  a  submission  from  these 
United  States.  If  you  are  victorious,  the  virgins  of 
our  land,  and  all  your  dear  connexions  will  hail  you 
welcome  upon  your  return  with  high  applause  and 
great  joy,  yea,  Zion  herself  will  be  glad.  May  the 
Lord  inspire  you  all  with  that  magnanimity  which 
makes  the  great  and  successful  soldier.  May  He  cover 
your  heads  in  the  day  of  battle,  and  crown  our  arms 
with  victory,  and  the  glory  shall  be  given  to  Father, 
the  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  world  without  end.  Amen." 
Such  sermons,  on  the  verge  of  an  expected  battle, 
had  a  powerful  eflfect  on  the  soldiers. 


HIS    DEATH.  381 

At  the  close  of  the  war  Mr.  Tennent  removed  to 
Abingdon,  near  Philadelphia.  He  afterward  became 
trustee  of  Princeton  College,  and  in  1794  received  the 
degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Yale  College.  He 
died  in  1810,  after  a  protracted  illness,  which  he  bore, 
without  murmuring,  to  its  close. 


CHAPTER     XLII. 

MR.   B0ABD1CAN. 

Chaplain  to  Dubue'i  Hegimext.— His  Diakt. 

A  strong  doubt  exists  as  to  the  proper  name  to  be 
placed  at  the  head  of  this  sketch.  My  utmost  efforts 
have  failed  to  discover  who  was  the  "  chaplain  of 
Durkee's  regiment/1  from  whose  diary  the  following 
extract  is  taken.  I  have  been  able  to  learn  only  that 
his  name  was  probably  Boardman. 

"Powle's  Hook,  Sept.  15th,  177G.  After  Long 
Island  was  evacuated,  it  was  judged  impossible  to  hold 
the  city  of  New  York,  and  for  several  days  the  artillery 
and  stores  of  every  kind  had  been  removing,  and  last 
night  the  sick  were  ordered  to  Newark,  in  the  Jerseys, 
but  most  of  them  could  be  got  no  farther  than  this 
place  and  Hoebuck,  and  as  there  is  but  one  house  at 
each  of  these  places,  many  were  obliged  to  lie  in  the 
open  air  till  this  morning,  whose  distress,  when  I 
wTalked  out  at  daybreak,  gave  me  a  livelier  idea  of  the 
horrors  of  war  than  any  thing  I  ever  met  with  before. 
The  commandant  ordered  them  every  thing  for  their 
comfort  that  the  place  afforded,  and  immediately  for- 
warded them  to  the  place  appointed  and  prepared  for 
them. 

u  About  eight  this  morning  three  large  ships  came 


EXTRACTS     FROM     DIARY.  383 

to  sail  and  made  up  towards  the  Hook.  The  garri- 
son, consisting  of  the  20th  Continental  regiment  (Col. 
Durkee's),  and  a  regiment  of  Jersey  militia  (Col. 
Duyckinck's),  were  ordered  into  our  works.  Soon 
after  they  had  taken  their  posts,  the  ships  came  up 
near  Jersey  shore  to  avoid  our  shot  from  the  grand 
battery  (the  removal  of  the  cannon  from  which  they 
were  ignorant  of),  and  as  they  passed  up  the  North 
River  kept  up  an  incessant  fire  upon  us,  their  shot  (a 
great  part  of  which  was  grape)  raked  the  whole  Hook, 
hut  providentially  one  horse  was  all  the  loss  we  sus- 
tained by  it.  The  fire  was  briskly  returned  from  our 
battery  by  Capt.  Dana,  w7ho  commanded  a  company  of 
the  train  on  this  station.  It  gave  me  great  pleasure  to 
see  the  spirit  of  the  troops  around  me,  who  were  evi- 
dently animated  by  the  whistling  of  the  enemy's  shot, 
which  often  struck  so  near  them  as  to  cover  them  with 
dust. 

"About  eleven  o'clock  a  furious  cannonade  was 
heard  a  little  above  New  York,  and  before  night 
numbers  came  over  from  the  city  and  informed  us 
that  it  was  evacuated  by  our  troops,  and  about  sunset 
we  saw  the  tyrant's  flag  floating  on  Fort  George.* 
Having  received  intelligence  that  a  number  of  our 
troops  were  in  the  city,  and  the  enemy  spread  across 
the  island  above,  two  small  parties  were  ordered  to 
assist  them  in  making  their  escape.  Two  captains, 
with  about  forty  men,  two  brass  howitzers,  and  about 
two  tons  of  military  stores,  were  brought  off  by  one 

*  On  the  Lattcrj. 


384  MR.     BOARDMAN. 

of  them  ;  the  other  party,  consisting  of  five  men  only, 
Were  fired  upon  by  the  enemy  (supposed  to  be  Tories, 
who  have  committed  a  number  of  robberies  on  tho 
friends  of  America),  when  one  Jesse  Squire,  of  Nor- 
wich, was  wounded,  who,  together  with  another,  fell 
into  their  hands. 

"16th.  About  two  o'clock  this  morning  an  attempt 
was  made  to  burn  the  ships  that  passed  up  the  North 
Kiver  yesterday,  and  anchored  about  three  miles  above 
us,  one  of  them  (the  Renown,  of  fifty  guns)  was  grap- 
pled, but  broke  her  grappling,  and  came  down  by  us 
again.  Another  cannonade  ensued,  but  no  damage 
was  received  on  our  side.  The  brave  Col.  Duyckinck, 
wrho  did  all  he  could  to  retain  his  men,  could  now  keep 
his  regiment  no  longer,  but  was  obliged  to  retreat  to 
Bergen,  from  which  time  Col.  Durkcc  was  bft  on  the 
Hook  with  only  a  part  of  his  regiment,  consisting  of 
about  three  hundred  effective  men. 

"17th.  An  express  arrived  with  information  that 
Col.  Williams,  from  Connecticut,  was  ordered  to  re- 
inforce us,  and  might  be  expected  next  day,  but  was 
not  able  to  join  us  till  our  retreat  to  Bergen.  This 
day  a  quantity  of  lead,  musket  ball  and  buck  shot  was 
discovered  in  a  suspected  house  about  a  mile  and  a 
half  above  us,  and  brought  down  to  this  place  and 
properly  secured  for  the  United  States.  Towards  night 
the  Renown  returned  back  to  her  station  up  the  North 
Eiver,  but  kept  near  the  eastern  shore  to  avoid  the 
shot  from  our  battery,  which,  however,  kept  up  a 
brisk  fire  upon  her  as  long  as  she  was  within  reach. 

"18th.     Nothing  material  happened  here — just  at 


NEW     YORK     ON     FIRE.  385 

evening  intelligence  was  received  that  the  brave  Lien- 
tenant  Col.  Knowlton,of  our  regiment,  was  killed  in  the 
action  that  happened  a  little  below  Kingsbridge,  on 
Monday,  as  he  was  fighting,  with  undaunted  courage, 
at  the  head  of  a  body  of  rangers,  the  command  of 
which  was  assigned  him.  The  joy  of  the  success  that 
action  would  have  occasioned  was  greatly  lessened  in 
this  department  by  the  loss  of  an  officer  so  greatly  re- 
spected and  beloved. 

"20th.  The  Kenown  returned  back  again  to  the 
fleet,  and  though  she  passed  close  in  with  the  New 
York  shore,  yet,  as  there  was  very  little  wind,  about 
forty  shot  from  our  battery  were  fired  at  her,  many  of 
which  took  effect.  She  lay  all  next  day  upon  a  careen 
to  repair. 

"21st.  At  two  we  were  waked  up  by  the  guards, 
who  informed  us  that  New  York  was  on  fire.  As  the 
fire  began  at  the  south-east  end  of  the  city,  a  little  east 
of  the  grand  battery,  it  was  spread  by  a  strong  south 
wind,  first  on  the  East  River,  and  then  northward, 
across  the  Broadway  opposite'  to  the  old  English 
church  (if  I  mistake  not  the  name),  from  thence  it 
consumed  all  before  it  between  Broadway  and  the 
North  River,  near  to  the  college,  laying  about  one  third 
part  of  the  city  in  ashes  (in  the  opinion  of  those  best 
acquainted  with  it),  and  had  not  the  wind,  as  it  veered 
to  the  west  died  away,  the  remainder  of  that  nest  of 
vipers  would  have  been  destroyed. 

"  This  evening  a  seaman,  who  said  he  belonged  to 
Providence,  and  that  he  was  taken  and  was  obliged  to 
fight  against  his  countrymen  on  board  the  Roebuck, 

17 


383  MR.     BOARDMAN. 

made  his  escape  by  swimming  from  New  York  to  tins 
place.  He  informed,  that  the  men  on  board  the  Roe- 
buck were  very  sickly  ;  that  they  had  lost  one  hundred 
since  they  left  the  capes  of  Virginia.  He  also  gave 
notice  that  preparations  had  been  made  to  attack  this 
post ;  that  a  large  body  of  troops  in  boats  (which  we 
discovered  on  the  opposite  shore  above  us  this  after- 
noon) were  to  make  a  descent  above  us,  and  endeavor 
to  cut  off  our  retreat ;  that  it  was  to  have  been  ex- 
ecuted this  morning,  but  the  fire  prevented. 

"  22nd.  As  no  reinforcements  could  be  sent  us,  we 
received  orders  this  morning  to  remove  our  artillery, 
stores,  and  baggage,  and  hold  ourselves  in  readiness  to 
retreat ;  before  night  most  of  them  were  removed. 

"  About  nine  A.  M.,  we  saw  the  enemy  embarking 
in  flat  bottomed  boats  about  two  miles  above  us,  who 
appeared  in  large  numbers  on  the  shore  after  they 
(about  forty)  were  full.  Four  ships  at  the  same  time 
came  to  sail  below  and  stood  up  towards  us,  but  they 
soon  came  to  anchor  again,  and  the  boats  which  had 
pushed  off,  returned  back.  Had  they  come  at  this 
time  we  might  either  have  retired  and  left  them  large 
quantities  of  artillery  and  stores,  or  fought  their  army 
and  navy  at  the  same  time  with  our  small  detachment, 
and  that  under  every  disadvantage — but  they  saw  fit 
to  retire  to  get  more  strength,  as  appeared  afterwards, 
though  they  could  not  be  ignorant  of  our  weakness, 
as  our  men  were  paraded  every  day  in  full  view  of 
them. 

"  23rd.  At  one  o'clock,  P.  M.  having  removed  every 
thing  of  value,  we  were  ordered   to  retreat  from  the 


ARMY    IN    THE    JERSEYS.  387 

Hook.  As  soon  as  we  began  our  march,  four  ships 
came  up  and  anchored  near  the  shore  around  the 
Hook.  At  the  same  time  a  number  of  boats  and 
floating  batteries  came  down  from  just  above  New 
York — the  latter  run  up  into  the  cove  opposite  the 
causeway  that  leads  to  Bergen.  After  taking  consid- 
erable time  to  see  that  there  was  nobody  to  hurt  them, 
they  began  a  most  furious  cannonade  on  our  empty 
works,  which  continued  till  they  had  wearied  them- 
selves. In  a  word,  they  dared  to  come  much  nearer, 
and  displayed  the  boasted  British  valor  in  much 
brighter  colors  than  ever  they  had  while  there  remain- 
ed a  single  man  to  oppose  them.  Meanwhile,  our 
little  battalion  retreated  with  drums  beating,  and 
colors  flying  to  Bergen,  and  before  night  the  brave 
Britons  ventured  on  shore  and  took  possession  of  our 
evacuated  works,  where  they  have  taken  every  pre- 
caution to  prevent  our  formidable  detachment  from 
returning,  and  driving  them  from  a  post,  which,  with, 
so  great  a  display  of  heroism,  they  have  got  posses- 
sion of. 

"  The  post  we  now  possess  coyers  the  Jerseys.  Here 
we  are  reinforced  by  a  number  of  regiments — more 
are  daily  coming  in — the  sick  are  recovering — the 
troops  in  high  spirits,  and  we  have  no  fear,  but  we 
shall  be  able  to  maintain  our  ground  against  all  the 
banditti  of  George  the  Third/' 

The  subsequent  overthrow  of  the  American  army 
dispelled  this  brave  chaplain's  immediate  hopes,  and 
what  become  of  him  in  the  turbulent  events  that  fol- 
lowed I  have  been  unable  to  ascertain. 


388  MR,     BOARDMAN. 

Such  waifs,  drifting  down  to  us  from  the  past,  show 
lis  how  many  valuable  incidents  respecting  the  revo- 
lutionary war  might  have  been  saved  from  oblivion 
had  efforts  been  made  a  half  century  ago  to  have  col- 
lected them  together. 


CHAPTER     XLIII. 

MR.    MAGOON. 

In  the  absence  of  details  respecting  this  noble 
clergyman,  I  cannot  give  a  better  idea  of  his  patriotic 
course  in  the  Revolution  than  by  presenting  the  fol- 
lowing extracts  from  an  address  delivered  by  him  to 
Haslett's  battalion  on  its  parade  in  Dover,  Delaware, 
May,  1776.  After  speaking  in  general  terms  of  the 
necessity  of  public  spirit — how  it  made  a  people  great 
and  prosperous — and  showing  how  righteousness  aex- 
alteth  a  nation"  and  sin  degrades  it ;  and  the  import- 
ance of  cherishing  good  and  patriotic  sentiments,  he 
turned  directly  to  the  soldiers  and  said  :  "  You  love 
your  country,  I  venture  to  affirm,  and  are  not  stran- 
gers to  the  full  meaning  of  that  honorable  word.  A 
Roman  orator  and  patriot  of  celebrated  fame  mention- 
ing the  subject  expresses  himself  thus  :  i  Our  parents 
are  dear,  our  children  are  dear,  our  relations,  our  near 
acquaintances,  but  our  country  comprehends  every  en- 
dearment and  the  tender  ties  and  charities  of  all,  for 
which  what  good  man  would  hesitate  to  dare  to  die/ 
And  doth  not  the  great  St.  Paul's  declaration  breathe 
alike  patriotic  spirit,  'None  of  us  liveth  to  himself, 
and  no  man  dieth  to  himself/  It  is  really  grand,  it  is 
solemnly  pleasing  to  behold  at  a  perilous,  alarming 


390  MR.     3IAGOON, 

conjuncture  so  many  stepping  forward  voluntarily  as 
thousands  and  thousands  in  these  United  Colonics 
have  done,  prepared  to  face  any  danger,  ready  to  en- 
counter any  difficulties,  rather  than  that  the  free  should 
become  enslaved,  and  the  once  happy  be  reduced  to 
wretchedness.  D  *  °  Perhaps  never  were  freemen 
or  patriots  or  warriors  or  heroes  called  forth  for  nobler 
purposes  than  we  have  now  in  prospect.  "We  are 
contending  for  no  other  prize  than  that  we  may  continue 
to  be  free,  that  the  fruits  of  our  honest  labor  may  be 
our  own,  that  we  may  be  delivered  from  the  hands  of 
those  who  would  oppress  us — that  our  civil  and  reli- 
gious happiness  may  be  secured,  and  that  wre  may  be 
able  to  transmit  those  blessings  on  a  firm  foundation 
to  our  children  and  generations  after  them.  It  is  not 
in  rebellion,  it  is  not  in  the  violation  of  the  spirit  of 
law  and  contempt  of  the  constitution,  that  wre  arise 
and  join  with  such  amazing  unanimity.  No,  ye  illus- 
trious shades  of  our  pious  ancestors,  and  ye  martyrs  of 
of  whatever  age  or  clime  who  have  shed  your  tears  and 
your  blood  for  dying  freedom  !  Ye  cloud  of  witnesses 
with  which  we  are  encompassed  about,  we  declare  as  in 
your  presence,  and  we  declare  to  the  whole  earth,  that 
such  are  not  our  aims,  that  our  public  measures  result 
from  a  dreadful  necessity — that  America  hath  resisted 
purely  on  the  footing  of  self-preservation." 

The  closing  sentiment  of  this  address  applies  with 
peculiar  force  to  our  own  times.  It  lies  at  the  bottom 
of  the  terrible  uprising  of  the  North  to  put  down  tho 
rebellion  that  threatens  the  integrity  of  our  govern- 
ment.    The   President  of  the   United   States,    every 


PAST     AND     PRESENT.  391 

officer  and  every  chaplain  in  the  army  might  say  with 
truth  :  Ci  It  is  not  in  rebellion,  it  is  not  in  violation 
of  the  spirit  of  lata  and  contempt  of  the  Constitution, 
that  ice  arise  and  join  with  such  amazing  unanimity. 
No,  ye  illustrious  shades  of  our  pious  ancestors,  and 
ye  martyrs  of  xohatever  age  or  clime,  who  have  shed 
your  tears  and  your  blood  for  dying  freedom.  Ye 
cloud  of  witnesses  ivith  which  we  are  encompassed 
about,  ive  declare  as  in  your  presence,  and  we  declare 
to  the  whole  earth,  that  such  are  not  our  aims — that 
our  public  measures  result  from  a  dreadful  necessity — 
that  America  hath  resisted  purely  on  the  footing  of 
self-preservation'9 


CHAPTER    XL  IV. 

THOMAS   COOMBS. 
Seemon  on  Fast-day  and  Pateiotic  Sentiment*. 

This  patriotic  chaplain  being  called  upon  to  preach 
a  sermon  on  the  occasion  of  a  fast  proclaimed  by  Con- 
gress, took  for  his  text,  2d  Chronicles,  xx.  12,  13  :  "  0 
our  God,  wilt  thou  not  judge  them  ?  for  we  have  no 
might  against  this  great  company  that  cometh  against 
us  ;  neither  know  we  what  to  do  :  but  our  eyes  are 
upon  thee.  And  all  Judah  stood  before  the  Lord, 
with  their  little  ones,  their  wives  and  their  children." 
After  describing  the  circumstances  which  produced  this 
prayer,  and  speaking  of  the  certainty  of  God's  assist- 
ance to  those  who  call  on  Him  in  truth,  he  passes  to 
the  consideration  of  our  own  country,  and  says  : 

"  We  have  asked  but  for  peace,  liberty  and  safety 
derived  from  Heaven  and  the  Constitution — sanctified 
by  the  faith  of  charters,  and  which  no  power  on  earth, 
without  our  own  consent,  hath  authority  to  disannul, 
and  since  I  am  called  to  the  office  of  speaking  before 
you  on  this  subject,  it  is  my  duty  to  declare  that  they 
are  privileges  wThich,  had  we  been  so  tame  as  to  have 
surrendered  without  a  struggle,  we  should  have  been 
guilty  of  treason  to  posterity." 

Again  :  "  We  have  the  authority  of  God's  own  de- 


SERMON     ON     FAST     DAY.  393 

claration,  c  that  all  things  shall  work  together  for  good 
to  them  that  love  God  ;'  and  under  the  influence  of 
this  cheering  thought  we  may  reasonably  indulge  the 
expectation  that  out  of  the  present  jarring  interests  a 
new  and  more  perfect  system  will  arise  which,  rescued 
from  the  capricious  mutilations  of  arbitrary  men,  shall 
perpetuate  the  liberties  of  these  United  Colonies  to 
the  end  of  time  :  for  God  will  take  our  cause  into  his 
hand,  and  will  help  the  oppressed  unto  their  right, 
that  the  men  of  the  earth  be  no  more  exalted  against 
us,  and  though  Assur  come  out  against  us  with 
ten  thousands  of  his  army,  the  multitude  whereof 
hath  stojiped  the  torrentsy  and  their  horsemen  have 
covered  the  hills — though  he  boasteth  that  he  will 
burn  up  our  borders,  and  kill  our  young  men  with  the 
sword,  the  Almighty  Lord  shalt  disappoint  them  and 
confound  their  impious  devices/' 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

A  ROMAN  CATHOLIC  CHAPLAIN. 

Catholics  have  Fought  with  Protestants  from   the  first  for  Liberty. — 
Cause  of  this  Singular  Coincidence.— Fourth  of  July  Address. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  in  our  first  struggle  for 
liberty,  and  in  all  the  wars  that  the  republic  has  since 
waged,  even  till  now,  when  the  North  is  struggling 
against  a  monstrous  rebellion,  Roman  Catholic  chap- 
lains have  sent  up  their  prayers  side  by  side  with 
protestant  ones.  Though  so  far  apart  in  every  other 
enterprise,  they  have  presented  the  anomalous  specta- 
cle of  working  together  to  support  free  institutions. 
In  the  revolution  we  were  emphatically  a  purely  prot- 
estant people,  but  our  French  allies  were  Roman 
Catholics,  and  the  chaplains  they  brought  with  them, 
though  not  governed  by  the  same  motives  and  spirit 
that  actuated  our  clergy,  manifested  the  deepest  inter- 
est in  our  struggle  for  independence,  and  expressed  the 
warmest  hopes  for  our  success.  Since  then  the  large 
number  of  foreign  born  citizens  in  our  army  have 
made  them  in  times  of  war  a  necessary  part  of  its 
organization.  Whole  regiments  would  be  without 
chaplains  entirely  were  it  not  so. 

In  the  revolution  the  religious  exercises  were,  of 
course,  in  French,  and  hence  we  know  little  of  their 
character  ;  but  the  following  translation  of  an  address, 


ADDRESS    IN    PHILADELPHIA.  395 

delivered  in  a  Roman  Catholic  church  in  Philadelphia, 
on  the  4th  of  July,  1779,  is  a  fair  illustration  of  the 
spirit  they  exhibited  throughout.  After  a  Te  Deum 
was  chanted,  the  chaplain  came  forward  and  said  :  — 
"  Gentlemen,  we  are  assembled  to  celebrate  the  anni- 
versary of  that  day  which  Providence  had  marked  in 
His  eternal  decrees  to  become  the  epocha  of  liberty 
and  independence  to  the  thirteen  United  States  of 
America.  That  being,  whose  Almighty  hand  holds 
all  existence  beneath  its  dominion,  undoubtedly  pro- 
duces in  the  depth  of  His  wisdom  those  great  events 
which  astonish  the  universe,  and  of  which  the  most 
presumptuous,  though  instrumental  in  accomplishing, 
dare  not  attribute  to  themselves  the  merit.  But  the 
finger  of  God  is  still  more  peculiarly  evident  in  the 
happy,  the  glorious  revolution  which  calls  forth  this 
day's  festivity.  He  hath  struck  the  oppressors  of 
a  people,  free  and  peaceable,  with  the  spirit  of  delu- 
sion, which  always  renders  the  wicked  the  artificers 
of  their  own  proper  misfortunes.  Permit  me,  my  dear 
brethren,  citizens  of  the  United  States,  to  address 
you  on  this  occasion.  It  is  God,  the  all-powerful 
God,  who  hath  directed  your  steps  when  you  knew 
not  where  to  apply  for  counsel — who,  when  you  were 
without  arms,  fought  for  you  with  the  sword  of  eternal 
justice — who,  when  you  were  in  adversity,  poured  into 
your  hearts  the  spirit  of  courage,  of  wisdom,  and  of 
fortitude  ;  and  who  has  at  length  raised  up  for  your 
support  a  youthful  sovereign,  whose  virtues  bless  and 
adorn  a  sensible,  a  faithful,  and  a  generous  nation. 
This  nation  has  blended  her  interests  with  your  inter- 


396        A   ROMAN     CATHOLIC     CHAPLAIN. 

ests,  and  her  sentiments  with  yours.  She  participates 
in  all  your  joys,  and  this  day  unites  her  voice  to  yours 
at  the  foot  of  the  altars  of  the  eternal  God  to  cele- 
brate that  glorious  revolution,  which  has  placed  the 
sons  of  America  among  the  free  and  independent  na- 
tions of  the  earth. 

"  We  have  nothing  to  apprehend  but  the  anger  of 
heaven,  or  that  the  measure  of  our  guilt  should  exceed 
the  measure  of  His  mercy.  Let  us,  then,  prostrate 
ourselves  at  the  feet  of  the  immortal  God,  who  holds 
the  fate  of  empires  in  His  hands,  and  raises  them  up 
at  His  pleasure,  or  breaks  them  to  dust — let  us  con- 
jure Him  to  enlighten  our  enemies,  and  to  dispose 
their  hearts  to  enjoy  that  tranquillity  and  happiness 
which,  the  revolution  we  now  celebrate,  has  established 
for  a  great  part  of  the  human  race — let  us  implore 
Him  to  conduct  us  by  the  way  which  His  providence 
has  marked  out  for  arriving  at  so  desirable  an  end — let 
us  offer  unto  Him  hearts  imbued  with  sentiments  of 
love,  consecrated  by  religion,  by  humanity,  and  patri- 
otism. Never .  is  the  august  ministry  of  His  altars 
more  acceptable  to  His  Divine  Majesty  than  when  it 
lays  at  His  feet  homages,  offerings,  and  vows,  so  pure, 
so  worthy  of  the  common  parent  of  mankind.  God 
will  not  reject  our  joy,  for  He  is  the.  author  of  it,  nor 
will  He  reject  our  prayers,  for  they  ask  but  the  full 
accomplishment  of  His  decrees  that  He  hath  mani- 
fested. Filled  with  this  spirit,  let  us,  in  concert  with 
each  other,  raise  our  hearts  to  the  Eternal — let  us 
implore  His  infinite  mercy  to  be  pleased  to  inspire  the 
rulers   of  both   nations   with   the   wisdom   and  force 


ADDRESS    IN    PHILADELPHIA.  397 

necessary  to  perfect  what  it  hath  begun.  Let  us,  in  a 
word,  unite  our  voices  to  beseech  Him  to  dispense  His 
blessings  upon  the  counsels  and  arms  of  the  allies — 
that  we  may  soon  enjoy  the  sweets  of  a  peace  which 
will  cement  the  union,  and  establish  the  prosperity  of 
the  two  empires.  It  is  with  this  view  we  shall  cause 
the  canticle  to  be  performed,  which  the  custom  of  the 
Catholic  Church  hath  consecrated,  to  be  at  once  a 
testimonial  of  public  joy,  a  thanksgiving  for  benefits 
received  from  heaven,  and  a  prayer  for  the  continuance 
of  its  success/' 


CHAPTER    XLVI. 

A  CHAPLAIN   AT   BRAXDYWINE. 
Address  before  the  Battle. 

There  arc  contradictory  opinions  about  the  follow- 
ing sermon  said  to  be  delivered  on  the  eve  of  the  battle 
of  Brandywine.  Hence  I  give  it  without  comments, 
just  as  I  find  it.  The  name  of  the  chaplain  is  said  to 
have  been  Trout. 

"They  that  take  the  sword  shall  perish  by  the 
sword!" — Matt.  xxvi.  52. 

"  Soldiers  and  countrymen  !  We  have  met  this 
evening,  perhaps,  for  the  last  time.  We  have  shared 
the  toil  of  the  march,  the  peril  of  the  fight,  the  dismay 
of  the  retreat — alike  we  have  endured  cold  and  hunger, 
the  contumely  of  the  infernal  foe,  and  outrage  of  the 
foreign  oppressor.  We  have  sat  night  after  night,  be- 
side the  same  camp  fire,  shared  the  same  rough  soldiers' 
fare  ; — we  have  together  heard  the  roll  of  the  reveille 
which  called  us  to  duty,  or  the  beat  of  the  tattoo  which 
gave  the  signal  for  the  hardy  sleep  of  the  sofdier,  with 
the  earth  for  his  bed,  and  his  knapsack  for  a  pillow. 
And  now  soldiers  and  brethren,  we  have  met  in  the 
peaceful  valley,  on  the  eve  of  the  battle,  while  the 
sunlight  is  dying  away  behind  yonder  heights,  the  sun- 


ADDRESS  BEFORE  THE  BATTLE.   399 

light  that  to-morrow  morn  will  glimmer  on  scenes  of 
blood.  We  have  met  amid  the  whitening  tents  of  our 
encampment ;  in  times  of  terror  and  gloom  have  we 
gathered  together.  God  grant  it  may  not  be  for  the 
last  time. 

"It  is  a  solemn  moment.  Brethren,  does  not  the 
solemn  voice  of  nature  seem  to  echo  the  sympathies 
of  the  town  ?  The  flag  of  our  country  droops  heavily 
from  yonder  staff.  The  breeze  has  died  away  along 
the  green  plain  of  Chadd's  ford — the  plain  that  spreads 
before  us  glistening  in  sunlight — the  heights  of  the 
Brandywine  arise  dark  and  gloomy  beyond  the  waters 
of  yonder  stream,  and  all  nature  holds  a  pause  of 
solemn  silence  on  the  eve  of  the  uproar  of  the  blood- 
shed and  strife  of  to-morrow. 

"  '  They  that  take  the  sword  shall  perish  by  the 
sword/  and  have  they  not  taken  the  sword  ? 

"  Let  the  blood-stained  valley — the  desolated  homes 
— the  burned  farm  house — the  murdered  farmer — let 
the  whitening  bones  of  our  own  countrymen  answer  ! 
Let  the  starving  mother  with  the  babe  clinging  to  her 
withered  breast,  let  her  answer — with  the  death  rattle 
mingling  with  the  murmuring  tones  that  mark  the  last 
struggle  for  life  ;  let  the  dying  mother  and  her  babe 
answer  ! 

"  It  was  but  a  day  past,  and  our  land  slept  in  the 
light  of  peace.  War  was  not  here,  wrong  was  not 
here.  Fraud,  and  woe,  and  misery  and  want  dwelt 
not  among  us.  From  the  eternal  solitude  of  the  green 
woods,  arose  the  blue  smoke  of  the  settler's  cabin  ; 
and  golden  fields  of  corn  looked  forth  from  amid  the 


400         A    CHAPLAIN    AT     BRANDTWINE. 

waste  of  the  wilderness,  and  the  glad  music  of  human 
voices  awoke  the  silence  of  the  forest. 

"  Now  !  God  of  mercy  !  Behold  the  change.  Under 
the  shadow  of  a  pretext,  under  the  sanctity  of  the 
name  of  God — invoking  the  Redeemer  to  their  aid,  do 
these  foreign  hirelings  slay  our  people.  They  throng 
our  towns,  they  darken  our  plains,  and  now  they  en- 
compass our  posts  on  the  lonely  plain  of  Chadd's 
Ford. 

"  '  They  that  take  the  sword  shall  perish  by  the 
sword/  Brethren  !  think  me  not  unworthy  of  belief, 
when  I  tell  you  that  the  doom  of  the  Britisher  is 
near  !  Think  me  not  vain  when  I  tell  you  that 
beyond  the  cloud  which  now  enshrouds  us,  I  see 
gathering  thick  and  fast,  the  darker  cloud  and  the 
blacker  storm  of  Divine  Retribution  !  They  may 
conquer  us  on  the  morrow! — might  and  wrong  may 
prevail,  and  we  may  be  driven  from  the  field — but  the 
hour  of  God's  vengeance  will  come  !  Aye,  if  in  the 
vast  solitudes  of  eternal  space,  if  in  the  heart  of  the 
boundless  universe,  there  throbs  the  being  of  an  awful 
God,  quick  to  revenge  and  sure  to  punish  guilt,  there 
will  the  man,  George  of  Brunswick,  called  King,  feel 
in  his  brain  and  in  his  heart  the  vengeance  of  the  eter- 
nal Jehovah  !  a  blight  will  be  upon  his  life — a  with- 
ered brain,  an  accursed  intellect ;  a  blight  will  be  upon 
his  children,  and  his  people.  Great  God  !  how  dread 
the  punishment  ! 

"  Soldiers  !  I  look  around  upon  your  familiar  faces 
with  a  strange  interest.  To-morrow  we  will  all  go 
forth  to  battle — for  need  I  tell  you  that  your  unworthy 


ADDRESS  BEFORE  THE  BATTLE.   401 

minister  will  march  with  you,  invoking  God's  aid  in 
the  fight.  We  will  march  forth  to  battle.  Need  I 
exhort  you  to  fight  the  good  fight  for  your  homesteads, 
your  wives,  and  your  children. 

"And  in  the  hour  of  battle  when  all  around  is 
darkness,  lit  by  the  lurid  cannon  glare,  and  the  pierc- 
ing musket  flash,  when  the  wounded  strew  the  ground 
and  the  dead  litter  your  path.  Then  remember,  sol- 
diers, that  God  is  with  you.  The  eternal  God  is  with 
you,  and  fights  for  you.  God  !  the  awful,  the  infinite, 
fights  for  you  and  you  will  triumph. 

" c  They  that  take  the  sword  shall  perish  by  the 
sword/ 

You  have  taken  the  sword  ;  but  not  in  the  spirit  of 
wrong  and  revenge.  You  have  taken  the  sword  for 
your  homes,  for  your  wives,  and  for  your  little  ones. 
You  have  taken  the  sword  for  truth,  for  justice,  and 
for  right,  and  to  you  the  promise  is,  be  of  good  cheer, 
for  your  foes  have  taken  the  sword  in  defiance  of  all 
man  holds  dear.     They  shall  perish  by  the  sword. 

"  And  now,  brethren  and  soldiers,  I  bid  you  all  fare- 
well. Many  of  us  may  fall  in  the  fight  of  to-morrow. 
God  rest  the  souls  of  the  fallen — many  of  us  may  live 
to  tell  the  story  of  the  fight  of  to-morrow,  and  in  the 
memory  of  all  will  rest  the  quiet  scenes  of  this  au- 
tumnal night. 

"  Solemn  twilight  advances  over  the  valley  ;  the 
woods  on  the  opposite  heights  fling  their  long  shadows 
over  the  green  of  the  meadow — around  us  are  the  tents 
of  the  continental  host — the  suppressed  bustle  of  the 
camp,  the  hurried   tread  of  the   soldiers   to   and  fro 


402  A   CHAPLAIN   AT    BRANDYWINE. 

among  the  tents,  the  stillness  that  marks  the  eve  of 
battle. 

"  When  we  meet  again,  may  the  long  shadows  of 
twilight  be  flung  over  a  peaceful  land.  God  in  heaven 
grant  it  I  Amen/' 


fluffs? , PSfttft.fcr-'*-***,  l.6 


1    1012  01074  4607 


Date  Due 


ww&a-w^  FB  jj 


«*•-, 


ntftY  r  i  loir 


